Secondhand Witcher
by Kaer Morhen
Summary: A dark day for the Witchers of the Wolf, another of their number has been taken by the hand of death and Triss, Eskel and others must find their place in the world threatening to destroy them. Cover art by NastyKulalovskaya at Deviant Art.
1. The Swamp of Grief

Triss stood impatiently in the middle of Crookback Bog. She struggled to maintain her composure as she looked around at the few buildings that the crones had made home for their altar and servant. The chill in the air sent shivers up her spine for reasons other than temperature. At least she was not alone. Eskel stood silently with her. Triss had searched desperately for him and near begged his help, although begging proved unnecessary. Lambert and Keira had been much easier to find and had readily consented to assist her but because of them, here she stood in the swamps of Velen, tapping her foot like a spoiled child. She felt a hand rest gently on her shoulder and looked up to see Eskel gazing down at her with a raised brow.

"Relax. They'll be here. Lambert complains a lot but if Geralt is in need, he'll be here. I think he understands him better, especially now," Eskel said, referring to Lambert's new found fascination with Keira. Triss gave him a wry smile. _Good ol' Eskel,_ she thought. A steady and true Witcher and friend.

Eskel removed his hand as Triss' gaze returned to her feet. He wanted to remain on alert. This place haunted him with its eerily silent surroundings. The cold dulled the smells of an environment like this for other people, but not for witchers. He could smell death on the breeze, in the water, everywhere. He knew why Triss asked him to join her, why she stood here waiting, and he feared for her. For what he knew was.

The sound of horses slogging through the muck drew their attention. Turning they saw the eagerly anticipated Lambert and Keira. The pair came to a halt and Lambert swung down giving Eskel a pointed look. Behind the destressed sorceress Eskel was anything but relaxed and gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. Keira also picked up on Eskel's slight signals and hopped down from her horse to look around.

"Well, I certainly thought I was done with Velen."

"I said you could stay in Vengerberg."

"And let you out of my sight? Think again, Witcher." Keira turned to Triss and embraced her. "Triss, how are you?"

"I'll be better once we find Geralt."

"Wasn't Pretty Boy supposed to go to Kovir?"

"That's just it. It's long past when he said he'd arrive. I managed to trace him back to Velen. I realized he might have come back after the last crone. I thought we could start here." Triss swallowed hard and Keira reached out to grip her trembling hands. No one said what they were all thinking.

"Well," Eskel broke the silence, "why don't you two check those buildings there. See if anything turns up. Lambert and I will start with the house." Keira put her arm around Triss and led her across the make shift yard to the smaller house while Lambert came to stand close to Eskel.

"You smell it, too, don't you?" Lambert said in hushed tones.

"The minute we got here." The two witchers looked at the door.

"So…you wanna…?" Lambert hesitated.

"No. But since I'm older than you…" Eskel reached out and placed his hand against the rough wood and gave a gentle push. The door swung open slowly, creaking on the rusty hinges. The pair entered the dark, dusty interior to discover its ghastly secret. Lambert lowered his head and looked away as Eskel sagged where he stood. Before an altar of bone, blood and candles lay the body of their friend and brother, Geralt of Rivia. He did indeed come after the Weavess, and from the amulet he held in his hand he succeeded but he must have been overwhelmed afterward. Eskel had heard of the Ladies of Velen and that they were not to be trifled with, even in death.

The pair moved further into the building and stood staring hopelessly and absorbing what this moment meant for them. They were now the last of the Witchers of the Wolf and just a handful of their kind. When Vesemir was alive, it was easier to ignore the reality of the world around them and go on as they always had. Then the Wild Hunt came and took their cornerstone, then Ciri disappeared and now Geralt followed them to the grave.

A sharp intake of breath behind them broke through their thoughts. Turning they found Triss pale and trembling in the doorway, Keira helpless at her side.

"No…" her voice was barely above a whisper as Triss gazed at the body of her beloved; the Witcher whose affection came hard won. A high pitch keening wail broke the silence as Triss fell to her knees beside the man she loved. The others stood transfixed at her grief as it pierced each of them. The Witchers flinched as her pain hurt their sensitive ears and Keira wiped away her own tears. The candles burst into flame, threatening to burn the tapestry. Triss covered Geralt's corpse with her body, her fingers entwined in his amulet as if she were trying to hold on to some piece of their broken future. Eskel lowered himself beside Triss and pulled her up and out of the cottage.

They settled Triss on a log with Keira caressing her fiery hair as she continued to sob uncontrollably and returned to the house. Eskel found the missing sword and returned it to the scabbard as Lambert cut down the tapestry of the beautiful trio to wrap Geralt's body; as it was in no condition to be moved alone.

* * *

Eskel used igni to light the pyre then stepped back beside his last remaining brother to watch the flames lick at Geralt's body. His chest felt heavy as the flames floated higher and Lambert let a slow sigh escape his lips. Life of late had taken its toll on them. All of them. Triss who had always fought valiantly for them, had suffered at their side and she now sat beside her sister sorceress, her sobs reduced to ragged breathing as the orange flames consumed the body of her lover.

The gentle sucking sound of hooves in the mud drew their attention. Eskel stilled Lambert when he reached for his sword. Through the swamp's mist a small figure emerged leading a horse. Geralt's horse. Eskel approached slowly and gave the small figure a curious look.

"A godling."

"Uh, hi. I'm Johnny," said the little figure with forced exuberance. His wide eyes reflected the light from the pyre and his shoulders slumped. "He did it, didn't he? He came back for _her_."

"He did." Eskel replied. Johnny lowered his gaze and shook his head.

"I told him not to. The Weavess was dangerous. IS dangerous. Those that serve her anyway. They are still watching…" Johnny whispered as he looked up at Eskel. "Here. I kept her safe, but when he never came back…" Eskel took Roach's reins and the mare stepped to his side.

"Thank you, Johnny." Johnny then joined the four forlorn friends and watched the fire until there was nothing left to watch.

The morning sun found two witchers standing vigil over a heap of ash, all that remained of the funeral pyre. Keira had cast a spell causing the fire to be all consuming so that there could be nothing left for anyone to loot. Johnny had returned to his den but Keira conjured a little comfort for herself and her grieving friend.

"I would say 'good morning' but it doesn't really fit, does it?" Keira said as she approached them. Lambert and Eskel nodded grimly. "We need to leave. There is an evil magic at work in this place."

"She's right," Lambert agreed. "My medallion hasn't stopped vibrating."

"I know." Eskel sighed. "I suppose someone needs to tell Yen, although that's not a conversation I relish having."

"I'll tell her. Lambert and I are returning to Vengerberg anyway. The question is what to do about Triss? She is in no condition to be on her own."

"I'll take her back to Kovir and take care of her."

"That's good of you." Keira said with true sincerity. "But no magic. Her heightened emotional state could make her spells unstable."

They parted ways later in the morning, Lambert and Keira headed northeast toward Vengerberg and Eskel and Triss northwest toward Novigrad. Before parting Lambert had given Eskel a small iron box. In it was an enchanted necklace with a dimeritium pendant. Once he put the necklace on Triss, only he would be able to remove it. It was with a heavy heart that he slipped the chain around her neck and fastened the clasp before assisting her onto Roach. She didn't complain. She merely said _I understand_.

Eskel and Triss rode into Lindenvale late in the evening. He wanted to press on but the storm rolling in from the north had other ideas. With the horses stabled, Eskel led his heart sick friend inside the warmth of the tavern. Triss sank onto the bench of the first available table, her hood pulled low. The innkeeper, a sturdy buxom woman, watched curiously as the witcher walked toward her.

"What can I get you?" She asked warmly.

"Could use a room for the night."

"Food and drink?"

"Of course," Eskel looked over his shoulder at Triss. "Something warm for her, please. She's not feeling well."

"Not sick, is she?"

"No. We recently lost someone very important to us."

"Ah. Broken heart. I know just the thing. Room is at the back." Eskel nodded his thanks and rejoined Triss. The pair said nothing. The serving girl set a tankard of ale in front of him and one of hot mead before Triss, but she merely sat and stared at the rising steam. Eskel reached for her hand and placed it around the warm mug. Slowly the other hand joined the first and she slid the hot drink toward her and took a sip. Feeling encouraged, Eskel turned to his stew and ate heartily. As he neared the bottom, he slid the bowl over and urged Triss to eat. She licked her lips and he handed her the spoon.

After finishing with their meal, Eskel led her to the room and brought in the gear from the horses. They would have to wait for the worst of the storm to blow over. He wouldn't drag her out in it. In the meantime, his purse was getting light.

"Know of any Witcher's work?"

"Well, we have been having problems with the corpse eaters. We can't make any headway in cleaning up the bodies because of them and the Black Ones aren't very helpful. Talk to the Alderman over there. He took up a collection not too long ago." Eskel approached the table of a grey bearded man arguing with the two young men that sat across from him.

"No and that's final," he was saying. "We need a professional."

"I might be able to help in that regard."

"Ah, see here boys? A professional. Alright, Witcher. We need to bury the dead but can't get near the fields. Plenty of men have already gone out to try to clear the buggers but never came back."

"I'll clear them out," and he said with surety and headed out into the dark and rain.

Just after midnight, Eskel returned to the room at the inn soaking wet. At least the deluge had washed away the filth of the fight and his pouch now weighed a little more. It should be enough to get them to Novigrad. He stripped to his shorts and hung his wet clothes to dry before settling down for what remained of the night. The room at the tavern was small, but left just enough room for his bedroll. Triss was sound asleep in the lone bed as he lay back and closed his eyes.

A few hours later, Eskel was abruptly awakened by a high-pitched cry. It was Triss, curled into a ball, wailing in her dreams for her lost love. He was on his feet in seconds beside her, his hand on her shoulder gently shaking her awake.

"Triss…" her eyes snapped open, her mouth frozen in a silent wail. She reached up and touched his face, feeling the rough scars beneath her fingers and began to cry anew. Eskel sat beside her and held her close letting her grieve. Feeling her shuddering body against his allowed his own grief for his brother to shake loose though he didn't shed any tears. Those had all been shed at Kaer Morhen in his private quarters after Vesemir's death. Death was part of a witcher's existence. They were professional dealers in it and frequently met it head on but Vesemir had been different. He had been around for so long he seemed impervious to it but death's cold hand had finally found him and Eskel's world had changed. He was the good witcher. Nothing more and nothing less. He wasn't angry like Lambert or famous like Geralt. He continued on as such even though now his mind was plagued by other thoughts. Other long dormant desires.

After a second night in Lindenvale, Eskel and Triss rode on. They traveled slowly. He stopped often plying the sorceress with food and drink and picking up a quick contract. Each night, he held her as she cried herself to sleep. He had taken to sharing her bed to soothe her while she dreamed.

Mulbrydale, Hindhold, a funny little inn called Cunny of the Goose. They made their slow trek northward. When they finally arrived at the Tretegor Gate into Novigrad, it was pouring rain. Eskel gave up his heavy cloak to Triss to shield her from the worst of the storm. The horses were stabled just inside the city walls and the weary pair made their way to the Rosemary and Thyme. It was one of the better buildings, fresh paint and a warm glow through the glass. Inside was clean and dry and patrons drank, laughed, and enjoyed the music and dancers. It would seem that Geralt's flighty friend had finally found something worth his time. Despite the merry making, his entrance did not go unnoticed.

"Welcome, laddie. What brings ya to Novigrad?" Eskel looked down into the bearded face of Zoltan Chivay and felt a brief pang of relief. It was short lived, giving what he had yet to divulge to the dwarf.

"Zoltan. Nothing good, I'm afraid. Is there somewhere we can talk privately? Is Dandelion here?"

"Aye. I'll take you upstairs. Dandelion is here abouts." Zoltan looked passed the witcher where Triss stood waiting. "Is that…" Eskel turned just as a drunk man leaned into her and tugged her hood back. He grabbed the front of the man's shirt and shoved him back and swept Triss up in his arms. She just leaned against his shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh, lassie. This way, Eskel." Zoltan told one of the serving girls to fetch Dandelion as he led the way upstairs. On the third floor, Zoltan opened the door to a lavish suite with a large bed. Eskel removed her wet cloak and lay Triss on the crimson coverlet. Eskel was just straightening up when Dandelion entered the room followed by a pretty woman dressed just as garishly as he was.

"Eskel! This is Pricilla," he said brightly indicating the woman at his side. "Martha said Zoltan was bringing a guest upstairs. Is that…Triss? By the gods! Is she alright?" Eskel held his hands up to stop the rushing troubadour then gestured to the table and chairs across the room.

"Why don't you sit down. You too, Zoltan." Noting the serious look, they did as they were bid. Priscilla took a gentle seat on the bed beside Triss after covering her with a blanket. Eskel walked to the window and watched the rain come down, each drop splashing on the railing just outside and the roof tops in the distance. He watched the grey clouds become darker as the night descended, occasionally illuminated by streaks of lightening. The weather outside and the cheerful sounds emanating from downstairs were in stark contrast of one another and in between it all he felt trapped, unable to move, unable to speak. He stood this way for some time before Zoltan broke the silence.

"What is it, laddie? What have you got to tell us?" Eskel closed his eyes and a vision of Geralt's broken body swam before him.

"I wish there was a better way to do this, but…Geralt is dead."

"What?! No! That can't…can't be true!" Dandelion was on his feet. "You must be mistaken! You have to be!" Eskel turned and faced two of Geralt's closest friends wearing his own grief openly. He had only met them a handful of times over the years but in this moment, he felt as if he had known them his whole life.

"I wish I were, but I saw his body myself. We…burned him in the swamps of Velen. The crone…" Dandelion collapsed back into his chair weeping as soft sounds of sadness echoed from the bed.

"You needn't say more. Thank you for telling us." Zoltan said from his seat as tears wetted his heavy brown beard. Eskel nodded and turned back to the window. After a time, Dandelion regained some measure of composure and asked about Triss. Eskel kept his back to the room as he answered.

"I'm taking her back to Kovir. I'll stay the winter with her, make sure she is alright before heading back out on the Path. She's done so much for us, it's the least I can do to return the favor. If we could just stay here a couple of days. I have a few things to sell and I'll need to find a ship."

"Don't worry about the ship. There is a certain captain that comes in and he's run up quite the tab. He'll take you. I'll make sure of it." Zoltan said.

"And stay as long as you need to," Dandelion added, his voice wavering. "You will always be welcome here."

* * *

Yen stood flipping through a treatise on magical anomalies when a gentle knock sounded. Snapping the book shut she went to the door and opened it to Keira and Lambert. She pushed the door wide and walked back into the room.

"Come in, Keira. You as well, I suppose. What brings you all the way across the city to my humble abode?" Yen was in a bad mood and stood with her arms crossed as her visitors entered her home and closed the door. Keira decided to ignore her rudeness and Lambert grudgingly followed her lead. "I mean, you have been here for some months and only now…"

"I've been busy with my research. I'm sure you understand."

"Yes," she said with a slightly menacing look toward Lambert. "And ferreting around with _him_. You know what they say, Keira, lay down with…"

"Yen," Keira interrupted harshly.

"What? You finally come to see me and you just have drag your little pet with you? How long do you think he'll keep with you? A witcher's attention is fickle and I doubt you'll hold his interest for too much longer." Lambert had enough.

"Geralt is dead." He said hard and plain.

"What?" Yen replied as shock spread across her face, her posture going slack.

"You heard me. He's dead." Lambert very nearly yelled.

"That's what we came to tell you." Keira said trying to soften the blow. "Triss…"

" _Don't_ say that name around me."

"We're done here. We just thought you ought to know," Lambert said over his shoulder as he lay a soft touch to Keira's arm and they turned and left. Outside, Lambert swung up into the saddle.

"You needn't have been so hard, Lambert."

"Yeah, well, I can put up with her shit but not you. She had no reason to talk to you that way. She got no less than what she deserved." Keira knew it was useless to argue so she mounted up and joined him. The clop of their horse's hooves echoed off the walls as they silently rode to the rooms they had taken on the other side of the city. Lambert glanced in her direction and watched her blonde hair as the breeze blew through it.

"And my attentions are _not_ fickle." He said before facing forward and returning to silence. Keira smiled to herself but said nothing.

Inside the luxurious house, Yen was not nearly so happy. She sat before the ornate fireplace with her hands covering her face and sobbed. She sobbed for the witcher she had loved. Third time was the charm and this time he was gone for good.


	2. The Long, Cold Winter

Eskel led Triss off the boards and once again helped her mount Roach. She turned her head and motioned _come_ as she led the way out of the city to her little cottage. Kovir was already much colder than Temeria and the trees lay mostly bare giving their surroundings an abandoned feel. The sound of their horses' hooves echoed off the stone and wood under a still dark sky. Merchants in the city were beginning to stir, as the warm glow from shops evidenced. But none looked from their windows to see the lonely sorceress and her companion.

Triss' home lay nestled beneath a willow whose long branches dangled like boney fingers that scrapped the walls in the frigid wind. Triss removed a key from her vest pocket while Eskel sheltered the horses in the stable. Watching his careful motions, she reflected that they would need to take the horses to the castle stable before the worst of the snows came.

She pushed the door open and stepped into the darkness. It was just as she had left it: clean and ordered, ready to receive herself and her lover. She had envisioned Geralt sweeping her up and carrying her through the door. Yet instead of her lover, she alone walked over the threshold and stood there with the shadows clawing at her soul. Covering her face, Triss let the tears flow; her chest tight as she sobbed. Eskel lit the fireplace and gathered her into his arms. She leaned against his broad chest and, as grateful as she was to Eskel, wished he was someone else.

The winter snow began their first tumultuous night. The wind was gentle and the snow light. Looking out the window it was peaceful and serene. Inside, however, Eskel sat at Triss' bedside with a low burning candle as she thrashed and murmured in her sleep. She finally calmed into deep slumber in the early morning hours and he was able to retreat to his own bed for some much-needed rest.

The following day, Triss sat at a small writing desk and pulled out parchment, ink and quill. She had to notify the King of her return even though she would not begin her duties until he came back to Pont Vanis. She hoped he was still here. Eskel meanwhile pulled the supply bags from the horses and brought them to his room. He took one look at the mud-spattered bag that had belonged to Geralt then dropped it into the wardrobe and closed the door. He wasn't ready to go through the remnants of his brother's life. Returning to the living area, he took the missive from Triss, along with another note for the stablemaster.

Looping a rope over Roach's head, he mounted up and led the mare to the royal stables before going to the massive front doors of the court. Pushing through, he walked up the carpet to the base of the dais where King Tancred Thyssen sat. The king turned his royal gaze to the newcomer as the few petitioners parted for the Witcher.

"It has been some time since one of your brethren have come to Kovir. What brings you? Monsters? Or have you come to scare the populace?" Eskel kept his face impassive at the insult and held forth the letter from Triss. The Steward took the missive and handed it to the king. Tancred's face sobered as he read the short letter.

"And are you whom she sought in Temeria?"

"No. He was dead." The King nodded his sympathy.

"Triss was quite disturbed when she left here. How does she fare?"

"Not well. I'll be staying the winter with her."

"Know her well then?"

"Triss has long been a friend to our order."

"Which order is that?"

"The Witcher School of the Wolf. I'm Eskel." Eskel's voice was heavy and the King regarded him thoughtfully.

"I'll be leaving soon for Lan Exeter to return in the spring. I look forward to seeing Triss then." Eskel turned to leave. "And Eskel…Welcome to Kovir."

* * *

With his horse safely ensconced at the royal stables, Eskel settled in with Triss for the long cold, Koviri winter. The cold season was usually a merry time for the witchers as they gathered together in their drafty fortress. They would swap their best tales of monsters and women and measure their worst scars; laugh at Lambert as he wrapped himself up in multiple blankets and drink far too much. When the liquor supply dried up, Vesemir would put them to work.

But not this winter. This winter Vesemir and Geralt were gone and he and Lambert were spending it apart for the first time in many years. This winter Eskel sat in a comfortable cottage filled to the brim with sadness. They were fully stocked with everything they would need. He did the cooking, while she silently assisted. The pair said little and they passed their time together quietly; he with a book, she with some sewing. It was a lovely scene of domesticity save for the tears that slid down her cheeks. Tears that did not go unnoticed. He listened every night as she cried herself to sleep. Upon one occasion he went to her, but she demanded to be left alone throwing her bedside candle at him for emphasis. She had been angry that it was Eskel and not Geralt that shared her home. Triss wanted her white haired witcher, not his brother. Eskel gave her space to vent her anger and grief but, despite her demands, he still went to her side at night when her dreams turned into nightmares and her whimpers turned into cries of anguish.

During the days, they were silent in their thoughts and grief. Eskel processed the loss of his friend. A man he had known his entire life, grew up with and even though they went their separate ways in life, remained friends and occasionally confidants. Geralt held a few secrets that Eskel closely guarded for they could be destructive to a witcher's way of life. He had never expected Geralt to harbor the same secrets. Then there were their unexpected children. While the nature of each relationship was vastly different, both girls proved to be very volatile. Two men so alike yet so different and now he was here, alone.

When the falling snow gave them a brief respite, he went out to chop wood. Halfway through the pile the wind and snow started up again but he finished his task and carted in armloads of wood to replenish the stack by the hearth. After stacking it up to the mantle he turned and brushed off his hands. From across the room came a strange sound. Triss stood in the doorway with her hand covering her mouth. The merriment that shone brightly in her eyes was evidence of the laughter that she was stifling. As he looked at her, startled, she dropped her hand and laughed aloud.

"Well, that's different." He said.

"Oh…my goodness…I'm sorry, but you really should see yourself!" Eskel turned to a small mirror that hung on the opposite wall. Over the winters, he let his beard grow and his face was now covered in the thick black hair. His reflection showed his face with a crust of snow and ice, including his eyebrows. He did look ridiculous and if it made her smile, then that was okay. He returned his gaze to her then picked up a rag from the table.

"It's good to see you smile again." He said. Triss straightened and took the towel from his hands and began to gently rub the ice and snow from his face for him.

"It feels good." She replied and continued her work with a smile.

"Thank you," she said when she finished.

"Shouldn't I be the one to thank you?" Eskel asked as he rubbed his chin.

"I mean thank you for all you've done. For me. I…I don't think I would have made it alone."

"There is one more thing..." he guided her to sit then lifting her red tresses from her neck, Eskel removed the pendent he had placed there several months before. As it left her skin, Triss closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She could feel the warmth of the flame as it came alive inside her once again.

"Thank you," she whispered. Eskel took the necklace and returned it to the iron box in the bottom of the wardrobe. When he joined her, Triss was using her magic to prepare an elaborate meal. Eskel leaned against the door frame and took in the picture before him. Triss worked with a smile on her face, her cheeks pink instead of pale. He also noted how lovely she looked; how warm and inviting. How Geralt could pass her up for so long he'd never know. He wondered, too, if she would have come out of her melancholy sooner if he had removed the dimeritium earlier. But no, he thought. Her mirth needed to rise on its own to push away the darkness. Her head rose and she blinked with a sudden realization.

"What day is it?"

"Uh, 8th of Birke. Why?"

"Oh no! We missed Yule!"

"We did." Eskel chuckled.

"Well, that just won't do…" and with a wave of her hands, the whole of the house was hung with green garland and red bows, candles flickering on every surface. Eskel got an idea and slipped back into his room then returned with a plain wooden box the size of his palm.

"Since we are going back in time, here. Merry Yule."

"Oh, you don't have to…"

"Please. I want you to have it. I have had this for years. I could have sold it a hundred times over but I never did." Carefully, Triss lifted the smooth lid, separating it from the bottom. Inside was the most beautiful yet simple piece of jewelry she had ever seen. A large ruby, that had been cut into the shape of flame, was nestled in gold. The chain was also a feat of master craftmanship. Each link was curved in such a way that it made the whole look like a tendril of fire creeping up the wearer's neck. Triss sucked in her breath at the beauty of it and traced a single finger over the glittering surface.

"It's elven work." Eskel said into the silence. Triss continued to stare at the gem. Eskel removed it from the box and slid it around her neck, fastening the clasp. "Don't worry, this one you can take off yourself." Triss looked up and saw her reflection.

"But I don't have anything for you." Eskel shrugged.

"No matter. It suits you." Triss returned her eyes to the small mirror and looked at the face that hovered above hers in the glass. Eskel had always been handsome in her eyes, in spite of the scarring. She had never known him any other way. He had also been such a good friend with a kind and gentle word; never quick to judge. She smiled and felt glad in her heart that he was here.

The following morning when Eskel awoke, there was a gift left on the bedside table. Pushing up, he reached over and grabbed the leather pouch. There was a card attached. Untying the pouch, he pulled out a magnificent silver dagger. The blade was slightly curved with a wicked hook on the end and delicate etchings down the spine of the blade. The grip was large, comfortable, and sturdy. It would certainly come in handy since he had lost his a few years ago. Somewhere there was a wyvern with a silver dagger sticking out if it's jaw. He flipped over the attached card. In a fine, flourishing script it read: _Merry Yule._

* * *

The cold winter melted slowly into spring and a knock on the door revealed a messenger from the King. He had returned to Pont Vanis and Triss was needed at his side. The following morning Triss strode from her bedroom looking fresh, radiant, and ready for a new start. Eskel sat at the table, needle in hand making repairs to his armored jacket.

"You shaved," she said stopping short.

"Yeah, end of winter and all. You look beautiful."

"Thank you."

"Are you ready?"

"I suppose. Life goes on and I can't cower here forever. There is so much to be done here. I'll be heading a new council of mages. It's something I've always wanted. No scheming or plotting just cooperation and helping one another. I still miss him but I suppose I always will…What about you? Heading back out on the Path?"

"Eventually. I thought I would stick around a little longer. Pick up some work in Kovir, if that's alright with you." Triss smiled brightly. She had been dreading his leaving and coming home to an empty house. The lingering sadness was much easier to face when someone else was around.

"Of course. Stay as long as you like. To be truthful, I could still use the company." Eskel gave a small nod, a gesture Triss learned long ago that signified a witcher's agreement.

Eskel found that Kovir had lots of work for a witcher. He would range out from the cottage for the afternoon, then the for the day. As spring turned to summer, he stayed out for a week or two before returning. Triss looked forward to his return when he was gone at length. She still hated being alone with nothing to keep her company but her memories. Occasionally he would stagger in with an injury that she deftly stitched up or sometimes used magic to heal. His body responded unusually well to magic.

One night he woke to sounds of muffled crying. He had been back for two days after a large nest of neckers tried to slice him open. Triss had cleansed the wound on his side and sealed it up with a dozen stiches and told him to rest a few days at least. Rising, he padded quietly to her room and pushed the door open. Her breathing was hard, and she thrashed in the already twisted sheet. Going to her side he called her name but she did not respond. He leaned over and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes snapped open and she took a deep breath as she looked up at him in the darkness. Her heartbeat slowed and her breath calmed. Eskel should have moved and returned to his own sleep but something kept him there, leaning over her.

Triss could feel his weight on the bed at her side. Slowly she reached a hand up, pulled him down and kissed him. The simple touch sent up a roar in Eskel's ears as he returned the kiss with great fervor. Lowering himself to the bed, he slid a hand down her body as their tongues grappled. Breaking away from her mouth he kissed down her neck, her hand running through his hair. He could feel her rapid pulse with his mouth and he savored that spot for just a moment, her scent strong in his nostrils.

"Oh…Geralt…" Eskel stilled and his blood cooled immediately. Even though his body craved the sexual connection, he pushed up and away from her and walked toward the door.

"Wha…" Triss sat up in a daze. Eskel stopped in the doorway and looked back over his shoulder, her form barely visible to normal eyes in the darkness.

"I am _not_ Geralt." Eskel said, his voice hard yet sad. Then he walked away leaving Triss holding the covers to her chest, wondering what she had just done. In the morning, he had returned to the Path.

* * *

He stayed on the road for much longer this time, on purpose, although he would have to return eventually. A lot of his extra gear was still at the cottage. The brief episode had upset him. This was his friend's woman. She still grieved for him, yet he had given into a moment of physical need and weakness. He prided himself on having more control than Geralt. That was the one area where Geralt could not best him. Eskel had been the consummate professional, Geralt the playboy by comparison. Even before Dierdre had scarred him, Geralt had always been far more popular with women than he had. Geralt had the roguish manners and fine features. The white hair was also a draw for some reason. Eskel, with his near black locks and deep-set eyes, looked too brooding and dark to be approachable. Then after Dierdre, he had taken to drinking heavily and that only drove a bigger wedge between himself and any potential bedmates. Eskel was not a pretty sight when drunk.

The sun was high overhead assuring that Triss would not be at home when he returned. He let himself in after a bath in the river and set to a long awaited task. Dropping the extra saddlebags on the table he grabbed some liquid courage and sat. He poured the amber liquid and downed it quickly followed by another. The first bag held a coin pouch half full. _Handy._ There were two bottles of fifths essence, some draconid leather, and grapeshot bombs. He set out several small vials and bottles of the standard witcher potions; Cat, Swallow, and Tawny Owl, all of superior quality. Beside those he set a vial each of relict, necrophage, and specter oils. Everything was within the normal realm of a witcher's possessions.

Eskel moved on to the second bag. The buckle loosened, he could see a book and several sheets of parchment. _What Will Become of Temeria?_ was the first item. The second was a child's drawing. Eskel looked carefully at it. It showed a little girl holding the hand of a witcher, Geralt. He wondered under what circumstances Geralt would have received this and why had he carried it with him. Moving on he pulled out a Greater Glyph of Igni and a Svarog runestone along with an Eye of Nehaleni. _Very nice_ he thought, wondering how he had come by such a beautiful relic.

Eskel downed more of the alcohol before picking up the bag and shaking out another piece of parchment. He was about to pick it up and read it when Triss came in the door. He dropped the bag on the table and got to his feet. His head swam and he staggered as the floor tried to slip from beneath him. Focusing his gaze, he could see her eyes ringed with red. She had been crying. He thrust out his hand with the half full glass of liquor. She took it from him and made a face after drinking it. Guess they were still friends after all.

* * *

Eskel woke with a start. Opening his eyes, the morning sun illuminated the ceiling and he realized that he was not in the guest room and he was not alone. Looking down he was still wearing his linen shorts although the cord was untied and they were pulled very low on his hips. Turning his head, he saw Triss still asleep beside him, her shoulders bare. A sudden anger welled up in him. Eskel had heard that Triss had seduced Geralt years ago with a spell. Had she done that to him to assuage her pain and loneliness? Had she imagined that it was Geralt making love to her? Despite the pounding in his head, he jumped up, tied his shorts and gathered up the rest of his clothes.

"Eskel?"

"What?" he replied, the anger still roiling inside him as he pulled his pants on.

"What happened?" She said, confusion obvious in her voice as she rubbed her forehead.

"I don't know. You tell me." He said harshly.

"Why are you so angry?"

"Why…? I wake up mostly naked in your bed and I can't remember how I got there. That's why." Triss' face paled as he looked at her and it just made him angrier. "So, which one was it? A temporary enslavement spell? A forgetting spell? Did you make me look like him too? How many times did you say his name I wonder?"

"Eskel, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't …"

"Yeah, sure you don't." He grabbed his boots and headed to the door but turned back right before leaving. "I will not be used as a replacement for a dead man." Then he stalked to the guest room and slammed the door. When he emerged after packing Triss was gone. Dropping his gear by the door, Eskel sat at the table to gather up the things he had pulled out the day before. Then he slid a piece of thick parchment from beneath the bags. He turned it over and read the back and smiled. At least now he knew where he was headed.


	3. The Broken Flower

**18 Months Later**

Eskel hefted the end of the beam over head as sweat poured down his face. Summer was not here in full bloom yet it was already uncommonly hot. He felt the thud of the L-shaped post as it slid into the freshly dug hole and the other men began backfilling to secure it in place. Overhead, he felt relief in his shoulders as two of the younger men lashed the new beam to the remaining part of the old. Eskel rolled his shoulders as he dropped his arms, thankful that part was over. The men in his employ could finish the rebuilding of the house that had been destroyed by a young shaelmaar that had escaped its captor.

Picking up his shirt, he walked to the fence near the gate and leaned against it. He looked out over the distance, the green fields and blue sky of Toussaint. He recalled the ride he had made over a year ago from Ard Carraigh after penning an apology to Triss. He had behaved abominably toward her no matter what had happened. She hadn't deserved what he had said to her. She had been grieving and he had been frustrated.

His last day in Pont Vanis, Eskel had picked up the last of Geralt's personal documents and noticed the quality of the parchment was far from ordinary. Reading the front told him it was a deed for property. Property in Toussaint, near Beauclair. Specifically, a vineyard called Corvo Bianco. The deed had been signed by the Duchess of Toussaint, Anna Henrietta. He had wondered then what feats Geralt had done to merit such a reward.

When he turned the parchment over, he found a less formal writing on the back:

 _I, Geralt of Rivia, leave my property listed opposite_

 _to my friend and brother, Eskel, if he lives._

 _If he does not, then ownership passes to the witcher Lambert._

Thus, he loaded his horse and headed south to sunny Toussaint where he now owned property. It was a novel idea. A restful idea. He was tired. Tired of the sideways glances, curses, being spat at. The way women shepherded their children away when he appeared and men stood watch over their wives and daughters. So many fears brought to life in the minds of the people by a handful of spiteful words. He had read _Monstrum_ when he was out on the Path only to return one day to a destroyed fortress and so many dead.

When he had arrived at Corvo Bianco after Wine Vat, the majordomo had known who he was and didn't seem surprised at his arrival. Barnabas-Basil Foulty had already known of Geralt's wishes, should he not return, and was given a complete description of the witcher that would take his place. Apparently, Geralt had been assured in the knowledge that it was a one-way trip. Barnabas eased Eskel into life at the vineyard, as he had been unable to do with Geralt before him. Eskel had stayed at the vineyard last summer instead of returning to The Path. Barnabas even married that fall, feeling confident that his Master could handle affairs without him for a short time.

Eskel pushed away from the fence and pulled his shirt on as he walked back up to the house. Barnabas was in his usual position on the patio in front of the house, looking down on the work below. No doubt he was also calculating income and expenditures in his head. Eskel came up beside him and sat back on the rail.

"Well?" the witcher asked his steward.

"Very good. Having you do the, ah, heavy lifting saved us from having to hire a crew to do it."

"I guess I can add work horse to my resume, now."

"We will have to be mindful of the grapes this season. It is already so hot…" Barnabas reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a square card. "This came for you earlier." He handed it over and Eskel read quickly over the beautifully penned script.

"No." He held it back to the steward. Barnabas turned to face Eskel.

"You must." He said as he placed a single finger against Eskel's hand and pushed it back toward him.

"No, I must _not_."

"This is a very important gala. This, a very coveted invitation…"

"And I'm not going." Barnabas sighed in outward exasperation as he again pushed the invitation back toward Eskel.

"The Duchess addressed this specifically to you. You cannot _not_ go. Besides, you have been to one of her affairs before."

"Under duress and it was a disaster. If it hadn't been for your wife, I would have found myself in the dungeon." Once more, Eskel tried to hand back the sturdy card. Barnabas merely looked down at it.

"I will summon the tailor," he said with a bounce on his heels and walked away. Eskel sighed and shook his head. Eskel had tasted defeat more often at the hands of this solemn man than from any monster on the Path. He would apparently be going to some diplomat ball given by the Duchess. At least this time he would be going as a guest, which greatly reduced his chances of winding up in the dungeon.

The tailor arrived promptly the following morning with a measuring tape around his neck. His beleaguered assistant followed behind with an easel, a bag of fabrics, and another bag with sketching supplies. Beneath the portrait of a sulking Ciri, the tailor set up his equipment then requested that 'Sir' come stand for measurements. Eskel stood patiently as he was bid as the small man ran the tape around his chest, down his leg and arm, amongst various other uncomfortable places. When he straightened and indicated he was finished, Eskel shrugged into his jacket and strapped on his swords while the tailor began flipping through sketches of men's formal wear. Eskel was aghast. If this was what passed for men's fashion, he would rather arm wrestle an ogre. Barnabas cleared his throat discreetly from the opposite corner as he, seemingly, poured over a ledger. _Fine._ Eskel retrieved the Skellige tunic that he had worn to the disastrous ball the first winter he was in Toussaint. It was a fine garment but too tight in the shoulders and across his chest. Geralt was built a little leaner than he was.

"If I have to, I'd prefer something like this. In red." He handed the garment over for the professional's perusal. He looked from the garment to Eskel and back. A thoughtful expression came over him.

"Yes…" and he turned to his easel. Eskel looked over at Barnabas who motioned that he could go. That evening, when he returned to the estate, the tailor was long gone but his easel had been left behind. Eskel examined the drawing that rested there. It was a quick sketch of himself in a long red tunic. The collar was high, but not as high as his armored jacket. The tunic was trimmed in black, with black buttons running down the front and some light embroidery on the cuffs as well as the collar. It was simple and elegant. _Well okay then,_ Eskel thought.

* * *

The night of the gala came and Eskel left Scorpion at the stables at the city's gate and followed the throngs moving toward the center of Beauclair to join the Duchess welcoming diplomats and other nobility. He had no idea why he was invited to this…this parade of pomposity. Was this her way of repaying him for finding that snotty noble bastard who had ruined her winter ball? He would have preferred more gold. He slowed his pace to lengthen the gap between himself and the group in front. Their raucous yet haughty laugher annoyed him and he shouldn't arrive on the Duchess' doorstep in bad humor.

Once he reached the sweeping stairs, he let the crowds pass by him as he watched them from the shadows before deciding it was time to stop delaying. He began his ascent and noticed a woman standing near the top as if she were waiting for someone. As he got closer, his breath caught and he stopped a dozen steps below her. The woman was Triss. Her red hair was swept up in an ornate knot and braids, her strapless dress faded from pristine white down to red, a slit to just passed her knee and around her neck was the flame jewel he had given her. His heart thumped hard in his chest. He had never seen anyone look as beautiful as she did.

Triss had seen the lone figure from a distance and watched him. She could tell it was a dark-haired man, but nothing more. When he hesitated to let the crowds pass, she was sure it was him. When he walked up the stairs, the moonlight shone across his face revealing the long scars she knew it was him. When he stopped just below her, she marveled at how well he looked. The Skellige tunic, the collar coming halfway up his neck then rounded down into the flat lapel. It was a simple yet elegant design, the blood red color suiting him perfectly. They stood staring at one another until Eskel spoke, his deep voice breaking the spell.

"Hi."

"Hello." Triss' reply was quiet but eager. They stood silent as a few others walked by looking curiously at them but Triss could no longer help herself. She gave Eskel her best and brightest smile and he relaxed. He smiled back then came up even with her and offered his arm.

"We shouldn't keep the Duchess waiting," Triss suppressed a nervous laugh as she slipped her hand through and held his arm. The palace was brightly lit and the buzz of conversation hug in the air. When they entered the ballroom, they could see the Duchess with her personal guard amid a flurry of elaborately dressed nobles at the other end. Triss gave his arm a gentle tug but stopped suddenly, placing her free hand on her stomach.

"Hungry?"

"You heard that?"

"Of course I did." Eskel led her to the long, lavishly laid table under heavy guard.

"Does the Duchess always guard her buffet this close?" Triss asked perplexed as she perused the fascinating morsels.

"She does now," Eskel replied handing her a glass of champagne.

"Now?" She slipped her hand back through his arm after eating several of the delicious treats.

"After someone turned her winter ball into a drugged orgy." Triss nearly choked on her champagne. Eskel stopped walking and watched her carefully until she ceased coughing.

"What happened?"

"Not long after I came here I received a letter, or rather Geralt received a letter. I took it to the palace and had the unfortunate task of telling Her Grace that Geralt was dead. Anyway, she was planning a winter ball in honor of her sister. There had been some vague threats. She wanted me to come and keep an eye on things.

So, I pulled on some dress clothes and showed up, waited and watched. There was nothing suspicious. I ate something off the table and it hit me about twenty minutes later. The last thing I remember was someone grabbing my arm and pulling me into dark room. When I came to, I…" Eskel stopped not sure of how to finish that. When he came out of the drugged stupor he was rutting on top of a dark-haired woman. A married woman. He never dallied with married women, no matter old how the husband.

"Are you blushing?" Triss asked with a smile. Eskel cleared his throat.

"I think you get the idea."

"Yes." She said with a twinkle in her eye.

"The entire place was like that. I started to sober up before anyone else, puked my guts up at the Duchess' feet and nearly got thrown into the dungeon. The guard at the gate took my pouch of potions so I wasn't able to take anything earlier. Fortunately, the maid who was being wooed by my steward slipped it into her pocket and brought it to me. Turned out some noble brat dusted the entire food table with some homemade drug before any of the guests arrived. My job then was to find who and drag his ass before her. Found him in some bandit cave by the lake. Trussed him up like a goose and dropped him on his ear at the guard house."

"So, all is well between you and the Duchess then?"

"I gue…"

"Yoo-hoo!" A voice carried over the crowd, interrupting him.

"Oh, no." Eskel visibly shrank beside her.

"Who is it?"

"When I blacked out…after I came to, it was with her. She has been hounding me ever since. Apparently, she was one of a few who did not eat anything that night."

"Fond memories then?" Triss asked, laughter shining in her eyes. Laughter and something he could not quite put his finger on. Eskel straightened as a beautiful woman with porcelain skin and dark brown hair and blue eyes approached them. She touched Eskel's shoulder in a very familiar way even as he took a step back to avoid the contact.

"Eskel, dear, I have been dying to get you all to myself again…" she paused and looked at Triss for the first time then her hand as it rested in the crook of Eskel's arm. Triss had the sudden urge to slap her.

"Margret." Eskel said not trying to disguise his impatience.

"You're not going to introduce us, darling?"

"Margret Lisle. Triss Merigold," Eskel looked down at his red-headed companion, "Sorceress extraordinaire."

"Sorceress? You have heard that…"

"Eskel!" The guests parted and dropped to bow or curtsy to the Duchess as she made her way over to him.

"Your Grace," He replied as he felt Triss dip appropriately.

"I'm glad that you came. I will get you into polite society yet, Witcher." Duchess Anna Henrietta said jovially before turning her ire on Margret. "Margret, where is your husband? Surely you are not still pestering the Witcher?" Margret stammered, unable to find words as the Duchess winked at Eskel before moving on. Eskel sighed. Now that he had been seen, he was ready to leave.

"Come on. Let's get out of here." Triss set her glass down and they made their way out the nearest set of doors. The garden was dark and full of people milling about, talking, drinking. Eskel led her down stairs and around the palace until he found the path he sought. It wound down and split in two: one path down into the city proper, the other toward the lake. They stepped off the wide cobbled path into the dark and into the ornate white gazebo that over looked the water. The path had been lit by lanterns making the way to the lake easy but they stood in darkness, save for the moonlight, the shrubbery designed to create privacy. Triss' hand slid from his arm as Eskel moved away from her to the railing. The moon was full and bright casting its glimmering reflection across the lake and the few boats rowing in the night time brilliance. Distant laugher wafted up to them from the gardens. It was a perfect night, warm with a light breeze, as spring began to fade into summer. Eskel's hands gripped the smooth wood as he gazed out into the night.

"I like it here," Eskel said softly. "It's beautiful, peaceful. I've learned to run a vineyard. Haven't been on The Path since I left Kovir."

"Why did you leave?" Triss wanted to know, but was terrified of the answer. Eskel shifted his weight on his feet but didn't leave the rail.

"You've always been someone we could count on. A good friend. All those nights I held you when you cried, all the time I spent with you in Kovir…I was afraid things might change."

"You were afraid to feel something for someone?" Triss watched him straighten up and look back at her.

"I'm afraid of feeling something for _you."_ Something shifted in his face, and he gave her a cold, hard look that was suffused with pain beneath. "I am _not_ Geralt." He sighed and hung his head, his voice softening as he returned to the rail. "I don't know why I'm telling you this but…Just over ten years ago, I went to this brothel in Novigrad. The madam gave me to the new girl. She was startled at my appearance at first. Terrified. The next time I went, she was surprised but seemed happy, like she had been waiting for me. I showed up again just after Sodden and she looked tired, gaunt and wouldn't undress but I managed to convince her. Someone had beaten her black and blue. She wouldn't tell me who it was, just that he was a regular. I found some oil and rubbed her back, brewed a potion to help ease the ache. I was prepared to pay my coin to give her a night's peace, but she insisted. Said I wasn't work.

I returned a few months later and the madam told me she was dead. Overdosed on fisstech. I knew she wouldn't do that on her own, she was driven to it. When I searched her room, I found a journal beneath a loose floorboard." Eskel was silent for a time as he watched the moon's reflection on the still face of the lake. When he spoke again, his tone was dark.

"I found him and I killed him. In cold blood. I drew it out even as he begged for his life and I never said a word. I've never done anything like that before or since. Then I went to the Friar and paid for a proper burial for her instead of the pauper's mass grave."

"Why?"

"Because she loved me." Eskel said quietly, staring off over the lake.

"Did you return her love?"

"No. It was nothing like that."

"Then, why do it?"

"Because she was a flower broken by a monster. I'm a witcher. I kill monsters. Also, because no one had ever loved me like that before. It was innocent, pure. She sought nothing in return. I thought her love deserved to be rewarded." He felt Triss' soft hand slide along his face coming to rest beneath his chin, turning him to her.

"Not the only one." Triss looked at him in the dark for a moment then removed her hand and sat back on the rail an arm's length away.

"I was angry at you when you left, but more at myself. I had to know…" her voice faltered and she clenched her teeth together to stop the sob that threatened to break free. She continued, "I had to know what happened that night. What drove you away. I went to the council and told them I needed them to perform a memory spell, one that would break through a drunken blackout."

"But you're…"

"Yes, I know. We took precautions but I was still sick for weeks afterward. I received your letter just before. You were so contrite that I knew I had to find out."

"And?" He asked softly. Triss looked directly at him.

"Nothing happened. We merely tripped drunkenly to bed. I don't think you even knew where you were going."

"Gods, Triss…I'm so sorry…" Eskel felt horrible knowing what he said and nothing had actually happened.

"You've already apologized," Triss said with a smile.

"It doesn't…It's not…" as he struggled to find words, he felt Triss touch his arm, her hand warm through his sleeve.

"Once I was back on my feet, I received another letter. I was…relieved that you were alright. Then I received another. It gave me hope that we could still be friends at least." Triss paused and watched him as he gently played with the tips of her fingers. She felt something well up inside her, something warm yet painful. "A few months after you left, I stopped dreaming of him." Eskel looked up at her, waiting. She pulled her hand back and he felt suddenly bereft.

"I got so used to having you around…The cottage became cold and lonely. I went through the motions but something was missing. And then I began to dream of you." When she looked up, Eskel was standing close to her gazing down at her, his face partially obscured in shadow, his golden eyes intent. The she felt it, the gentle hum as he took her hand in his. Then his lips touched hers softly and the hum intensified, shimmering over her. She had wondered if it had been a product of her grief at the time, but no, it was still there as she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands at her waist, the gap closed between them. They kissed slowly, savoring one another as their relationship shifted from friends to lovers. Eskel suddenly broke away, his cheek resting at her temple as he looked over her shoulder.

"Someone is coming."

"Oh," Triss replied and tried to step away but his arm was firm, holding her pressed to him. She felt his chest heave in a deep breath.

"Come home with me," he whispered. His voice was husky and it sent shivers down her spine. She nodded. He took her hand and led her away from the palace garden to the gate where his horse was stabled. Hoisting her up, he nestled behind her and gave Scorpion a kick. Eskel breathed her in and placed kisses down her neck and shoulder as they rode. Triss held tight to the arm that held her close as the hum became louder but not unpleasant.

They dismounted by the door, leaving Scorpion to wander at his leisure. The main house was almost just as she remembered, but the bedroom looked very different. The desk was gone and the painting of Geralt was replaced by one of a great black dragon. On the bed was a rich red and gold blanket. The effect was a drastic change from when she last saw it. The bed she knew was comfortable, she had slept in it but they had never….

She turned to see Eskel had unbuttoned the fine red and black garment and was shrugging it off his shoulders before gently laying it over the chair in the corner. His chest was smooth, broad and lightly scarred. He had a heavier look than Geralt, his form built thicker, his muscle bulkier. Eskel saw her raise her hand and his medallion vibrated against his chest. He reached for her wrist and pulled her hand down.

"Allow me," he said and she turned her back to him. He ran his hand over her bare shoulders eliciting a shiver. Gently grasping the silky material, Eskel loosened it hook by hook until the dress slipped from her and pooled around her feet. She felt his fingers trace down her back to the waist of her lace panties and back up before leaving her skin. Next, she felt a tug at her hair as he pulled the pins that held the ornate design. Each tendril and braid fell one by one at his insistence. Once all her hair hung loose past her shoulders he gathered it up and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply before trailing his hands down to her hips hooking his thumbs in the lace that sat there. He knelt behind her as he pulled the tiny article down her legs then running his hands back up her legs and over her backside before stepping away completely.

"Stay," he told her and she could hear him pull off the remainder of his dress attire. She waited patiently until he touched her shoulder with a gentle pull. She turned and the desire in his face struck her with awe. His body was scarred and hard, everywhere. His eyes roamed over her body as he reached for her hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. Triss could feel the heavy thud and his shallow breath along with the hum of magic that roiled inside him. Eskel repeated the ritual of touching her, running his hands down her sides, stomach, and cupping her breasts which drew sighs and whimpers from her. When he kissed her again it was still slow and teasing.

Eskel lowered her to the bed, determined to feel every inch of her. He covered her and gently sucked and kissed her throat.

"Oh, Eskel…" Triss moaned as the hum began to overwhelm her. It was the moment he had been waiting for. He parted her knees and settled himself then joined steadily with her. When he was firmly seated, Triss arched and moaned as spasms rocked her. The hum that slid beneath her skin at his touch now filled her completely at the intimate connection. It overrode all her senses. All she could feel and see and hear was him. Eskel was mystified by such an immediate response and held still, savoring her pleasure. His curiosity was forgotten, however, when Triss pulled him down and began to kiss him greedily.

All his here-to-fore restraint dissolved and he gave himself over to her. Each touch, each kiss, each thrust met with equal response. Never had he bed a woman that met him so completely in passion and desire. Triss was unabashed in her reaction to his touch. Where Geralt had been spontaneous and creative, Eskel was… _thorough._ There was not an inch he had not touched in some manner. Coupled with the vibration of his magical aura, it was the most satisfying and erotic experience of her life.

Triss arched beneath him again and Eskel released a soft groan as the exhilaration of completion swept over them and he slumped over her, burying his face in the dampness of her skin. When their bodies separated, he slipped an arm under her shoulders and rolled off her pulling her to his side. He lay staring up at the ceiling as his right hand rested on the pillow beside his head. He felt her slide her hand over his heart, feeling each beat slow to normal. Triss watched his profile as her hand moved with the rise and fall of his chest, his breath slowing.

"I fell in love with you that winter," Eskel said, his words a near whisper. "That's why I left. I wanted you to want me like you did him. I wanted it to be my name on your lips." Triss snuggled closer and Eskel turned over, wrapping his free arm around her. Together they fell into a deep sleep, their legs entwined, their hearts beating as one.

Triss returned to Kovir the following morning but not before saying a heartfelt and painful goodbye under the dawning sky. She stood in the circle of his arms as he gave her one last lingering kiss.

"Come with me," she said as their lips parted. She saw some trepidation in his face at this request. He had created a whole new life in Toussaint and here she was, asking him to leave it. "Don't answer just now…but…if you want to be together…you know where to find me." She raised up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss then turned and teleported away.


	4. There and Back Again

_I apologize for the delay. Due to sickness, weddings and bathroom remodeling, I have been otherwise occupied. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Eskel held his fork between his forefinger and thumb while poking at his breakfast. He had a busy day today. There were fences to mend and grapes to tend, both things that could be done by others but he liked to help. He had never minded all the work that Vesemir gave them. He liked to work. He had also picked up a contract in Beauclair but he just couldn't focus on that either and an unfocused witcher was a dead witcher. Beside him, someone spoke but the words were lost.

"Hmm?" He looked up to see Marlene standing beside him, holding a teapot

"I asked if you would like more tea." She said softly.

"Oh, uh, no. Thank you." He went back to poking at his food. Marlene laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright, son? You haven't been eating lately." Eskel looked up into her worn and wrinkled face. Marlene de Trastamara was the only person of his acquaintance that could call him son and it be anywhere remotely true. She had been cursed and lived as a spotted wight for so long her entire family died off. Geralt had lifted her curse and brought her to Corvo Bianco. Once she recovered, she stayed and cooked for Geralt and now for him. She was kind and soft spoken and Eskel felt protective of her, even though she was not quite as fragile as she seemed.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little preoccupied." She gave him a gentle pat and removed the empty tea mug. Just then Barnabas pulled out the chair next to him and sat, his own tea in hand.

"Preoccupied is an understatement." He said pointedly then sipped his tea as he opened the accounts ledger. Eskel stabbed the meat on his plate and stuffed it in his mouth as he eyed his steward reproachfully. "May I speak frankly, Sir?"

"Why not? You're going to anyway." Eskel muttered.

"You have not been yourself recently. You have been…detached. Might I suggest a trip?"

"Things to do. Contract to finish."

"Not finished yet? I recall you saying it was quick work for good money."

"As you said, I haven't been myself. Can't go out there without my head on straight."

"Because…?"

"Because…" _Because_ _I might not see her again_.

"I thought so." Barnabas sipped his tea, feeling very satisfied with himself.

"You thought what?" Eskel was becoming agitated.

"The solution to your malaise is simple. Go to Kovir." Eskel stared back at him.

"And what makes you think that will solve all my problems?" Barnabas set his mug down and faced him.

"You need her." The two men held each other's gaze for a moment then Eskel stood up, grabbed his gear, mounted up and left. He had picked up two contracts. One was done. He needed only to return the lost item to its owner. The second was to clear a nearby cave of archespore.

On the ride to the cave, he thought about what Barnabas had said. _You need her._ Triss. It had been five weeks since she returned to her duties in Kovir and he had been living in a fog. When she walked through that portal she took a piece of him with her. _If you want to be together…_. In that single moment, she had awakened something inside of him long dormant: the pull of the desires of the man inside the Witcher that he had not felt since he was young and fresh on the Path. Then, he had quickly learned that the infertility was irreversible and the thought of watching someone he loved age and die while he continued on was too much. He had apologized as he walked away from her, the sound of her tears haunting him for years but he pushed it aside. Focusing his will, he walked the Path as a perfect Witcher. Over time, the ache of loss eased then was forgotten though the experience was not. It was a strong reminder of what and who he was.

So, he had drunk too much with his brothers, threw himself into the manual labor required to maintain their crumbling home, and found his pleasure at brothels or, preferably, with a succubus. They held no expectations, spun no sad tales and, as long as he didn't reek of blood and gore, were very welcoming to him.

Rounding the hill, he saw an encampment near the mouth of the cave; a grouping of striped tents to one side and carts loaded with goods on the other. Approaching the entrance, he was stopped by the merchant that hired him. He was a wiry man with thick hair and beard, an incongruous look, and he did not look happy.

"Well, Witcher, I thought this would be done by now." The merchant crossed his arms and held his chin high in an attempt to look down on Eskel. It was a look Eskel had seen over and over and wanted to knock off his face.

"I'll have this finished up in short order." The merchant nodded curtly and stepped back. Dropping the reigns, Eskel knelt in the pose of meditation. Closing his eyes, he breathed deep and slow focusing on the job ahead before pulling his silver sword and applying a thick, rancid smelling, yellow grease before entering the cool darkness.

Inside it smelled earthy but dry. Toward the back a hole in the ceiling let in enough light to allow him perfect vision without his cat. Running his hand over the rough stone wall, he walked slowly waiting for the tell-tale rattle of bones before the archespore shot from its resting place beneath the earth. He continued to circle the cave, winding inward to catch any other that may be hidden. As he neared the center, the ground gave a rumble and the plant burst forth spraying dirt in every direction.

It was huge. The fleshy flower was nearly as large as his horse and the stalk was as thick as four men grouped together. It whipped back and forth before spitting poison thorns at him. Eskel dived and rolled away, releasing a burst of fire. There was a hiss and a squeal and it disappeared beneath the earth. Another rumble beneath his feet gave enough warning of its return for Eskel to move to safety, parry the thorns and throw more fire at it. Eskel could hear the snapping and popping as the beast writhed before again disappearing. They repeated the same steps to this deadly dance over and over until, suddenly, something peculiar happened. Something that had not happened in a long time. As the massive head whipped backward, time seemed to slow and he saw every ripple of movement. Eskel rolled away with ease as the beast struck where he had been and he slashed up the thick tangle of vines before stepping back and releasing igni once again. This time the flames held. He hadn't used a standard Witcher's potion but a flame accelerant ensuring that the flames would burn continuously. He would be sure to thank the alchemist that gave it to him.

Eskel crouched to rub his blade in the dirt, smothering the flames that clung to it and watch the fire burn. He began to see the flames separate into layers of yellow, orange and red. Each color was distinct as they flickered slowly in his sight and he was reminded of the jewel that he had given Triss.

He blinked and the fire crackled and popped normally. Eskel stood and left the cave. The merchant and his workers were gathered outside watching the smoke billow from the entrance.

"You set fire to my cave?" He complained loudly. Eskel pulled a rag from his bags and wiped the grease from his sword before sheathing it.

"Only way to kill an archespore." The merchant grunted and handed over a pouch of coin. Eskel hefted it. "Feels a bit light."

"Deductions for being tardy on completing the job and now this!"

"We never agreed on a timeframe and there was no other way." Eskel held the man's gaze. The disfiguring scar gave him a more pronounced snarl that frequently worked to his advantage.

"Fine." He pulled another pouch and threw it at Eskel. "At least I'm done with you. Wretched mutants. Should have all been rounded up and hanged."

"I'll remember that next time you need a monster killed." Eskel said patiently as he rode away. On the way home, he was relaxed and clearheaded. He realized he actually missed _being_ a witcher. Helping those who were truly grateful made him glad. Those, like the merchant, who looked down their nose with disdain at him yet knew they had no other real choice gave him a sense of smug justice, especially when he could point out that he was the only option should another monster cross their path. Also, having something else to rely on eased the burden of income and thus his need to pry every piece of gold from other's fingers, leaving him free to accept those contracts that made him happy.

A boy came running from the stable and took Scorpion's reigns from his master's hand. Eskel smiled and ruffled the boy's hair. He instructed the lad to brush him well, that he would be starting a long journey the next day. Eskel found his steward in his usual spot overseeing the work in the vineyard. They stood beside one another silently for a moment before Eskel spoke.

"Hire extra help for the harvest if needed. I can't guarantee when I'll return."

"Return, Sir?"

"I'm not sure when the court at Kovir closes. Triss doesn't go to Lan Exeter, so we'll return here." Barnabas gave him a faint smile.

"I'm glad to see you have come to your senses…Sir."

"Yeah, me too."

* * *

Eskel left Toussaint in high spirits. At least until he crossed the border. The northern kingdoms were as dark as Toussaint was bright. War had ravaged the land for so long, it had beaten down the people as they tried, and frequently failed, to rebuild their lives. Monsters were plentiful as they fed on the bodies of the dead. The Nilfgardian flag flew high but the soldiers did little to help the people they now dominated.

As he crossed the former border of Lyria, a haggard man hailed him as he stepped away from the group of women and children. Another group of young men stood aloof from the rest. They were all red eyed and dirty, the children skin and bone peering around their mother's skirts. It was a scene of tired desperation.

"Master!" the man called out. "Master, can you help us? Please?" he begged as Eskel rode closer. Eskel pulled up and looked down. "A Witcher! Melitele smiles on us!"

"What is it?"

"We are trying to start over. There is a village up the road that the Black ones haven't burned but there are corpse eaters. Could you rid them? We've lost all…" A soul wrenching sadness flashed through the man's eyes briefly and Eskel dismounted. "We beg your mercy since we have naught to repay your services." Eskel felt the pain in the man's voice though his face did not betray this fact. This man was so unlike the haughty merchant.

"A meal and a place to bed down will be enough."

"Thank you, Master Witcher! Your kindness will never be forgotten!" Eskel swung back up into the saddle.

"Anything else I should know?"

"Aye. There be a big one. With spikes."

"Alghoul. Wait here until I return." Eskel gently nudged Scorpion forward down the road until the houses came into view. Like the man said, this village was still standing with buildings intact. He left Scorpion on the outskirts and swiped necrophage oil down his blade as he crept closer to the center, where the smell of decay was strongest.

It had been a large village at one point, before the war took the men and bandits took the rest. Around the well were several bloated corpses of those who previously failed to clear the beasts. Three ghouls fought over the right to feed and Eskel took advantage of their inattention. He released the Dragon's Dream he had pulled from his bags then followed it with igni creating a fiery blast that killed one of the ghouls and set alight the other two as well as a few of the bodies and the roof of the well. Running in through the smoke he finished the remaining ghouls with quick, strong strokes. Straightening up, Eskel put out the fire and blew away some of the smoke with aard. Training his hearing on the sounds around him, he cleared the houses and common buildings of a few other small ghouls but saw no sign of anything else.

Turning his back to the well, he began to walk out where he had left his horse. Again he felt the slowing of time, heard every breath of the frightened animals in the trees, felt every hair on his arms stand. Slowly he looked back as the large alghoul crept from behind the alehouse. In his heightened state, Eskel saw every muscle movement and felt every tremor as the beast came to confront the man who would interrupt its peace.

The spikes were beginning to deploy and Eskel ran toward the creature dropping to a roll as its massive claws came out for a swipe. He landed on his knees and blasted it with axii and the poisonous spines retracted. A split second later, Eskel engulfed the alghoul in flames then began his silver onslaught. He parried, blocked and rolled with ease as he already knew exactly the moves the creature would make. Making a dive away from another deadly swipe, Eskel saw his opportunity to end the fight. Grabbing his silver dagger, he thrust it upward into the beast's lower jaw then yanked forward, ripping half of its face off. As it staggered, Eskel finished it with a hard downswing of the heavy blade of his sword.

Eskel stood over his conquest and caught his breath as the sharp focus of the world around him faded and the sounds of nature blended together with the wind in the trees. He reflected that the fight should have been much harder but the precognition that he sometimes experienced had kicked in, making it so much easier. It was something he had experienced his whole life except he usually went years between these psychic episodes not mere weeks. He was also able to know other's minds. Not direct telepathy, but he could get a sense of someone's true intentions and know their thoughts. Neither of these abilities were something he could control. They came and went at their own volition, usually very infrequently.

Eskel returned to the haggard group of refugees spattered in blood and entrails. He rode up but did not dismount. Every eye looked to him as if he were their last hope.

"Master?" The old man ventured carefully.

"The village is clear. Gather up the bodies and burn them outside the village. The smell may draw more ghouls in but the fire and smoke should keep them at bay. I'll return shortly." Eskel turned his horse and rode toward the forest as the women exclaimed in relief and the old man called his thanks.

When he returned from the forest after destroying the ghoul nests, the bodies burned brightly in a pile on the road and Eskel had two stags slung over his mount. He dropped them near the well and the younger men got to work hanging and skinning them while the women put together a spit to roast them. Eskel watched all this from a shadowed porch chair, maintaining an aloof attitude. Deep down however, he was pleased. His last paid contract had been thankless and demeaning. While this job would earn him no coin, these people were far from thankless. As darkness descended, a woman approached him carrying a roughhewn wooden plate heaped with roasted venison. Eskel recognized her as the woman with the three young children. She stopped outside of arms reach as if she hated to disturb him. Eskel met her gaze and she spoke.

"For you," she offered the plate in his direction. He took it and nodded wordless thanks expecting her to turn and quickly return to her family but she remained standing in front of him. She even took an additional step toward him.

"I…I wanted to thank you…for what you've done for us." Eskel looked away, a little embarrassed.

"Just doing my job," he said softly.

"Not just your job. My children will go to bed with a full stomach and a roof over their heads for the first time in over a year because of you. Thank you." Her voice broke and she turned and went back to the joyous group around the spit. Eskel smiled into the darkness. No amount of gold could replace what he felt just then. He ate his dinner and in the morning when the newly settled villagers awoke, the witcher was gone.

* * *

Summer in Kovir was warm and breezy. Eskel rode through the cobbled streets to the castle as the people watched him with curiosity. It had been a while since a witcher had come this far north. The crowds were thicker the closer he got to the King's summer residence and he dismounted to lead his horse through. The green in front of the castle doors was a welcome reprieve from the press of bodies and the summer heat. A half-dozen castle guard passed him and Eskel watched the Captain approach him.

"I'm looking for Triss Merigold."

"The King's advisor? She would be in the Wizard's Tower right about now." The Captain gestured backwards to the tower that jutted over the low built castle.

"Wizard's tower? A bit cliché."

"It also houses the King's library. He likes to read. Follow the path near the wall. It will lead you straight to the door."

"Thanks." Eskel followed the flagstone path that led between the castle wall and the outer wall. It was a long narrow walkway that opened abruptly to a garden of brightly colored flowers beneath a canopy of trees. Butterflies flitted among the bushes as the birds sang overhead. Eskel tied Scorpion to a tree and went through the heavy door. Inside the thick stone walls was dark and cool. Making his way up the steps he came to the first floor, the wall of which were lined with floor to ceiling books. A young woman was on the far side scanning through the titles, list in hand. He passed two more floors like the first before reaching the top. The door was open to a bright blue rug on the worn boards. He stepped into the room and scanned around. Shelves and tables covered the walls holding books, scrolls, and other baubles. A marble statue of Melitele stood in one corner. At the far end of the room, Triss stood with her back to him as she leaned over a heavy tome.

Eskel silently closed and barred the door, thankful for the well-oiled hinges, before walking quietly to her. Standing right behind her, he inhaled her scent before sliding his hands around her narrow waist. He smiled as he she jumped in surprise and turned to face him. She was startled at first but, after she processed who stood before her, her face filled with wonder.

"You came…" she said breathlessly. Triss reached up and caressed his face and down his shoulders and chest in disbelief as her pulse began to race. "You came."

"I couldn't stay away." Eskel said as he lowered his mouth impatiently to hers in a long-awaited kiss. Triss wound her arms around his neck, holding tightly. In her arms, he felt the tension slide from his shoulders as he felt suddenly complete in her presence. Her grip on his neck loosened and he felt her soft hands slid beneath his shirt. He was reveling in her touch when there came a thud from the door.

"Lady Merigold?" Came the muffled voice followed by a hammering knock. Triss and Eskel parted reluctantly though he did not release her. The banging became more insistent. Triss removed her hands from under his shirt.

"I should let her in. She will have the guard up here to break the door down if I don't. She's a good assistant just…a little jumpy."

"Let me." Eskel went to the door, and wearing his best witcher face he lifted the bar and opened the door, much to the assistant's surprise. She looked up as he very deliberately adjusted his belt buckle and checked the ties on his pants. Her eyes grew round and she turned bright red. She slunk passed him with her books and Eskel suppressed a laugh as he winked at Triss.

"I'll see you at home," he said and followed the stone steps downward. There wasn't much left of summer but it promised to be very pleasant indeed.

* * *

 **Vengerberg, wintertime**

Yen walked home from the tavern late in the afternoon. The sky was grey and the wind blew cold as she approached a small garden circle near her home. A man was head down and scurrying away after posting a notice. Yen read the notice and her blood ran cold. Emhyr's hatred and vitriol had finally escaped the walls of his palace in Nilfgaard. She snatched the notice down and began to run to the other side of the city. When she arrived at her destination, she banged heavily on the solid door. Thankfully it swung open.

"Oh, shit…"

"Lambert, you have to leave. Immediately." Yen said with all sincerity.

"Kiss my ass, Yen." And started to close the door on her but she persisted, grabbing his jacket collar.

"No, Lambert, you don't understand…"

"I understand plenty."

"What is going on in here? Yen?" Keira was surprised at Yen's appearance at their door. Ever since they bore the bad news of Geralt's death, Yen had shunned them, turning away from Lambert and refusing to see Keira when she sought assistance. Yen shoved the flyer at Keira. Keira's eyes scanned over the paper then read aloud. " _It is hereby decreed by His Eminence, Emhyr var Emreis, the Emperor of Nilfgaard and its territories that all sorceresses are to be arrested and prepared for transport_ _to_ _Nilfgaard. Any witchers that may be travelling in their company are to be executed immediately, their medallions and heads collected to be presented to His_ _Imperial_ _Majesty."_

"I'm so sorry. I'm afraid this might be my fault."

"How so?" Keira inquired with a stunned expression.

"When Ciri never returned from the tower of the Swallow, Geralt came to see me. He told me he had gone to Emhyr and told him of her disappearance and that Emhyr said he never wanted to see him again. But I know Ehmyr. I know he blamed Geralt for Ciri's disappearance and secretly sought him out to exact revenge. He probably toyed with the idea of killing Triss first. When you came and told me that Geralt was…dead…I…I thought I could put an end to all this if I told him."

"You did what?" Lambert shook from her grasp.

"I went to Ehmyr and told him that Geralt was dead. Not right away. It was almost a year later. That the crone from Velen killed him. I had no idea he would respond this way! You must go. Now. Go north. To Kovir…or…somewhere else. Anywhere else."

"It's clear he didn't believe you." Keira said, trying her best to press down the panic that crept up her throat.

"Shit." Lambert stormed into the bedroom and began to pack the bare necessities.

"I'll help you anyway I can."

"No," Lambert said as he dropped his saddle bags on the table. "Winter is coming. I know where to go and it's best if you don't." Yen stood subdued with her hands clasped before her looking nothing like the powerful sorceress she was.

"Fair enough. I'll go into hiding then present myself to Emhyr in a few weeks. Better I go myself than be brought in. Good luck." She said then departed.

"Where are we going, Lambert?" Keira asked nervously. Lambert turned a beaming smile on her.

"How do you feel about wine?"


	5. Courage Knows No Fear

Warm light flickered from the fire centered on the wall at the end of the room. Paintings reflected the light ominously while the copious bookshelves absorbed it, casting shadows in the corners. A tall man stood before the fire, strong hands clasped behind his back. He stared deep into the flames as if looking for the answer to a very important question. And he certainly had one, but he wasn't about to voice it. Fate had handed him something that was beyond his control, and Emhyr var Emeris did not like it when he was not in control. But that would change. He would force fate to bend her knee to him just has he had everyone else. Everyone but Geralt of Rivia. That damned Witcher. It was because of him he stood in the position he was now and fate had taken away his chance at revenge. No matter. He would make the rest pay for their brother's sins. Pay dearly. Footsteps in the doorway interrupted his reverie and he gave a slight turn of his head to acknowledge the intruder.

"Yes?" his asked, his deep voice filling the room.

"Your Eminence…I'm afraid she did not survive." The messenger stood warily, prepared to weather whatever mood his Master would heave at him. Emhyr merely turned his face back to the fire.

"It is of no consequence." The clerk sighed silently in relief.

"Master Plaman said she was not strong enough to cast the spell more than once."

"Then we will have to find stronger ones."

"Indeed, Your Eminence. Master Plaman suggested he try but he is too valuable."

"For now. What of the Guild of Merchants?"

"They are…placated… for the moment."

"What of the other?"

"We are tracking them as we speak."

"I must think. Leave me." The clerk bowed low and backed out of the room easing the door closed. He wiped the sweat from his brow and thanked the gods that the Emperor's mercurial temper spared him. Inside the great hall, the Emperor of Nilfgaard continued to stare deep into the flames.

* * *

The door opened quietly to a dimly lit room. Lambert looked the length of the room taking in the various suits of armor and the set swords that hung over them. He nodded in appreciation. He and Keira closed out the cold and walked deeper into the room. It was well appointed with elegant furniture, fine art and tapestries, and wine. Lots of wine.

In another room there was a thump and a deep groan mingled with a woman's cry of ecstasy. Lambert grinned lasciviously over his shoulder and Keira rolled her eyes. He flopped down into a chair and kicked his feet up on the smooth tabletop while Keira strolled around the room. A few minutes later, the bedroom door opened and Eskel stood shirtless with his sword in hand. Lambert grinned as he got to his feet.

"Sorry for showing up unannounced. We're not…interrupting…are we?" Eskel lowered his blade and went to greet his fellow witcher. "Sounds like someone was having a good time. Gonna kiss and tell?"

"No."

"You're no fun." The door to the bedroom opened a second time and Lambert glanced passed Eskel's shoulder. "Fuck me." He said under his breath and Eskel laughed. Triss came to Eskel's side as Lambert continued to sputter and gawk.

"Merigold?"

"I hate to put a damper on the love fest, but we have a problem and I'm not sure being in Toussaint is going to help," Keira said. She handed the folded parchment over and Triss read it silently, her hand reaching out to grip Eskel's. Keira also shared what Yen had said and wondered at the wisdom of being so near the Emperor's cousin. Triss began to tremble and Eskel led her to a chair.

"Not again. I thought we had moved past this."

"You can always go back to Kovir. You are the property of a powerful King. The rest of us are at loose ends." Keira dropped down into the seat Lambert had vacated. Triss felt a little hurt at her words but knew they were true. Tancred Thyssen was not someone to trifle with, especially that he now had other means of war at his disposal.

"Then there is the matter of my neck," Lambert groused. "I rather like my head where it's at." The door opened to admit a cold gust and Barnabas Basil-Foulty. He did not seem surprised at the additional faces around the table.

"Ah. I see our guests have arrived." Lambert gave Eskel a questioning glance as the steadfast steward set down his ever-present ledger and tea cup then sat at the head of the table. Eskel slid the notice toward him. Barnabas pulled out his spectacles and read. "This is not…unexpected."

"Not unexpected? What the fuck? Emhyr wants to enslave Keira and put my head on a pike!" Lambert raged.

"A lone witcher should encounter no trouble…"

"I am not leaving her." Lambert said emphatically.

"I was not going to suggest that you do so."

"What about the Duchess?" Keira asked. "Are we safe here?" Barnabas took a sip of his tea before answering.

"I would say so. Yes. As long as you follow certain rules."

"Rules?" Lambert interrupted.

"Shut up and listen, Lambert." Eskel admonished.

"You trust this guy?"

"Without a doubt." Lambert swallowed the rest of his arguments and sat still.

"As I was saying…You will be safe as long as you follow certain rules. Eskel has had no trouble moving about Toussaint and neither should you, Lambert. Keira, however should remain at the vineyard. While the Emperor allows Her Grace to rule as she sees fit, there is a Nilfgaardian embassy in Beauclair."

"I have gone to Beauclair with no problems." Triss said.

"But, I believe, never near the embassy and you are also the advisor of a powerful monarch and everyone knows it." Triss glanced at Keira as she looked away, embarrassed for her harsh words earlier. "And this is only the second time you have been here. Once on an invitation from the Duchess and now. I would recommend that you also stay at the vineyard, if only for Eskel's peace of mind." Barnabas rose and began packing bottles of wine into a crate as delicious smells began to emanate from the kitchen. They were soon joined by Marlene as she came to lay out a teapot and four cups.

"Breakfast will be done soon. There is a basin and fresh linens in the spare room if our guests would like to freshen up." Eskel thanked her as he rose to dress.

"How did you know we were coming?" Lambert asked the majordomo before heading up the stairs behind Keira.

"Given the political climate, it was only a matter of time."

* * *

Triss left the bedroom fully dressed as the others were finishing their morning meal. Eskel did a double take at her very formal appearance and her heart sank because he knew what it meant. She kept a magic mirror to keep in contact with the Council while in Toussaint. One of the leaders of the Council had contacted her.

"I'm afraid I must return to Kovir." She said.

"If you're going because of what I said…" Keira began, her voice apologetic.

"No. I'm not. Anyway, you were right. To the rest of the world I am the property of a King. No, I have been summoned."

"You aren't due back for a couple of months yet." Eskel was concerned and a little sad. This was their first winter together and now it had been cut short.

"Tancred is reconvening the court at Lan Exeter. It seems that Emhyr has taken up residence in Vizima. He has also brought a large portion of the army with him, which hints at a long term stay. With such large troop movements, Tancred is rightly concerned as to why. I certainly hope he isn't going to move against Kovir. I am so tired of the fighting." Eskel stood and took her hand, raising it to his lips.

"I'll join you as soon as it's suitable to travel." He leaned down to kiss her and Triss reciprocated eagerly before leaving via portal. Eskel stood staring at the empty space until Lambert broke into his thoughts.

"You and Merigold, huh? How long that been going on?"

"End of last spring Triss came here. It was the first time I'd seen her since I left her in Kovir. I'd never thought about her that way but after that winter…it just happened. It sounds stupid, but I feel a little more alive when she is around." Eskel stacked his and Lambert's plates on the tray. Keira handed hers over and as he took it, their fingers grazed one another. Keira jerked her hand back quickly, her eyes wide. She reached over and grabbed Lambert's hand shaking her head.

"Exactly how strong is your magic?" She asked Eskel. Lambert guffawed.

"He can completely incinerate shit if he's not careful."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I touched you just now, I could feel a magical vibration. I'm not trained to detect magical talent so if I can feel it...Has Triss never mentioned it?"

"No, she hasn't." _But it explains a great deal,_ Eskel thought. Her reaction to the simplest touch, the way she responded to him in bed. "But I will be sure to ask her."

* * *

Winter turned to spring and spring to summer and the court of Tancred Thyssen relocated to the cooler royal seat at Pont Vanis. Triss stood beside her King on a particularly brutal afternoon as he saw petitioners. She was wondering how much longer it would take to see to the needs of those that milled about the hall when she noticed someone at the very back of the crowds. He kept to the shadows and moved with a predatory gait. _Eskel._ He had made the trip from Toussaint safely for a second time. The King's steward called her attention and when she looked back, he was gone.

As the sun began to lower in the sky, her day finished in the King's service and she walked out the large castle doors. In the small garden in front of the palace a tired witcher leaned against a tree, eyes closed, arms crossed, horse grazing quietly beside him. Triss stood and watched him, how serene he looked yet knowing too, how deadly he remained.

"Are you coming or are you just going to watch me all evening?" Eskel said, his eyes still closed.

"How did you…"

"I could hear your heartbeat speed up." He opened his eyes and looked up at her with a smile as her cheeks flushed. He held out his hand to her. She came down the steps and took it, their fingers lacing together and they walked home beneath the summer sunset. They walked in silence until passing out of the city gate. It was then she noticed his hands were bare as he squeezed a little tighter. She sighed, savoring the hum as it slid further under her skin.

"Can you feel it?" Eskel asked quietly.

"Yes," she replied, instinctively knowing what he was referring to. "Every time I touch you."

"What does it feel like?"

"A vibration. A hum. The closer we are, the more intense it is."

They lapsed into silence again and once home, Eskel stabled Scorpion then followed Triss through the door. Behind closed doors, he grabbed her and held her tightly against him and laid a crushing kiss on her lips. Triss wound her arms around him, thrilling at the magical shockwave that coursed through her. Eskel broke off and nuzzled her ear, his breath tickling her skin.

"As much as I would love to take you straight to bed, I could use a bath."

"I think I can help you with that," she said with a grin. She took his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. She cast her spell conjuring a large hot bath as he carefully laid his gear aside and dropped his filthy clothes.

He let out a sigh as the hot water lapped over his skin and he slid beneath the surface. Coming back up he leaned against the side as Triss pulled up a chair and lathered soap in her hands. She washed his hair and massaged his scalp saying a small spell under her breath to rid him of any lice he undoubtedly picked up on the road. Rinsing her hands, she grabbed a silver ewer, filled it, and poured it over his head washing away the soap. He leaned back, eyes closed and Triss just watched him. She began to trace over the features of his face. From the rough stubble along his jaw, to the ragged scar that partially marred his features. She ran her fingers over his brow and down the bridge of his nose, circling his closed eyes. _I wonder what color they were…_

"Dark brown." Eskel said, his voice surprising her.

"W…what?" She stammered as she looked down into the yellow eyes and narrow pupils.

"You wondered what color my eyes used to be. Dark brown."

"I didn't say that out loud."

"No, you didn't. Sometimes…sometimes I can hear what people are thinking. More often with you. It comes and goes. I don't have any real control over it."

"When did this start? With me, I mean."

"In Toussaint." His said softly as he recalled the night they made love for the first time. Being with her seemed to awaken something inside him. Where she felt a physical hum, he felt a psychic hum. Some deep magic that drew him to her, something that told him what he sought, he would find with her. Ever since that night some of his more erratic abilities had become less erratic. Aside from the pseudo-mindreading, he was somewhat prescient; an ability that manifested as a slowing of time. He had attributed his slightly fewer scars to this ability. And not getting mixed up with politics, thrown into prison and flogged.

Triss rose and magically undressed beside the tub. Stepping into the water she kneeled over him and leaned in to kiss him. His hands found her waist and pulled her gently down into the water until they were joined together. The silence was punctuated with their breathless sighs as they rocked together, but it wasn't enough. Eskel pulled his feet under him and stood, Triss holding on tightly. They fell to the bed and he pushed hard against her, gripping her forearms as he thrust. Triss writhed beneath him and finding it impossible to get any closer moaned his name as a torrent of pleasure rolled over her. Eskel collapsed with a groan, sliding his hands up and lacing his fingers through hers. This certainly wasn't what he had planned. He had planned something that lasted much, much longer.

"Sorry about that," he chuckled sheepishly pushing up to his elbows. "It's been awhile."

"What, no stops at the local brothels?" Triss teased. She watched as his face became thoughtful and he released her hand to stroke her cheek.

"Why would I do that when I have you waiting for me? I love you, Triss. And I won't say that then crawl into another woman's bed, paid or otherwise." Triss swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. Every day, men proclaimed their love then visited the ladies of the night. Even Geralt. To have someone forgo all other pleasure simply because of her… She reached up and pulled him down to her, kissing him gently. They then proceeded on to Eskel's original plan.

* * *

 **Vizima, Winter**

Vizima was beautiful in the winter. Especially the palace. All the dirt and misfortunes were hidden beneath a blanket of soft white. Rays of the winter sun glinted off the pointed icicles that hung from ledges of the courtyard. The inner grounds were small being in the heart of the city, but Foltest's tastes had run on the extravagant side creating impeccable grandeur in such a small space. The damage that had been done over the last several years had been repaired, the Temerian coat of arms replaced with that of Nilfgaard.

The other change was the fear that seem to permeate the very stone the castle was built with. Foltest's court had been full of intrigue, every court is, but the arrival of Emhyr var Emries brought a rare kind of fear. His word was law, and his law was ruthless. There was no room for dissent. Dissent brought death. Or worse. A line of men and women chained together shuffled down the hall under their watchful guards. In a room to the side a handful of young women were shackled in dimeritium. The fate of these young sorceress was dire indeed. Their time had run out.

She kept her head down and hood pulled low as she made her way up the steps from the lower recesses of the castle to the servant's quarters. With any luck, she could make it past the guards to the hall where the Emperor sat in judgement over those that had crossed him.

Sure enough, there he sat, on the once great Temerian throne, issuing his commands as each person was dragged before him. The deep tenor of his voice filled the hall without effort ensuring that each pronouncement was heard by all.

Skirting the great open space, she remained in the shadows of the pillars. No one turned to look at her as she made her way to the end of the line. For what seemed like hours she moved slowly up listening to the condemned sniffing in fear as they cried silently, the pleas for mercy that fell on deaf ears, the heavy doors to the dungeons slamming shut.

"Step forward," the guard said as he grabbed her arm roughly and shoved her forward to the steps. One foot after another she walked up the smooth stone not with fear but with courage borne of having already faced innumerable fears. There was a shuffling and whispered voices.

"Your Eminence, I have nothing on this woman."

"What is your name? Lower your hood." The stern voice of the Emperor said. Slowly she reached up and with a silent deep breath, she lowered her hood and looked straight into the brown eyes of the Emperor of Nilfgaard. An evil smirk spread across his stone like features. "Yennefer of Vengerberg. Your arrival is very…fortuitous."

"What do you want with me? Why have a kill order on the Witchers?"

"Does that upset you? Then let us make a deal. I will spare their lives in exchange for your service." Yen thought of Keira and Lambert, of how wrong she had been about Lambert. He was coarse, but he had stayed by Keira's side unwaveringly. She thought of her own grief on the news of Geralt's death. That was a pain she would never wish on anyone, much less a friend. She would do whatever it took to spare Keira that pain.

"Rescind the order and I will stay."

"Very good," he said as a guard clapped a pair of dimeritium shackles on her wrists.


	6. Turning Tides

"Why are we here?" Eskel looked up at the narrow building that now housed the Council of Mages. In this house near the city center, mages plied their craft, trained, studied, and most importantly, came together in peace and safety. Triss had struggled with getting this council off the ground in order to ensure the continued quality of life they had under the generosity of King Tancred. Triss opened the door and he followed her into the dark interior. The entry opened immediately into a library; the former parlor and rich sitting rooms were now floor to ceiling books and smelled strongly of oiled leather. In corners were tucked deep chairs while the floor center contained pedestals and tall stools. Mages were lounging as they contemplated their manuscripts while others painstakingly read through titles still on the shelf.

"Well, you have been asking me quite a bit about what I feel when I touch you and it got me to thinking."

"About…?" Eskel asked as he dodged a young woman carrying several large tomes. Triss reached back and took his hand.

"This way." She led him to the back of the house and down the basement stairs. The hall was narrow but high. At the end was a heavy door. Triss stopped and turned to him abruptly. "I love you. I don't know that I've ever said it…but I do." Eskel took her in his arms. "Through this door are answers you may not expect but nothing will change how I feel about you." They stood silently, her cheek against his chest as he held her tight. A click intruded on the silence as the door behind them opened. Again, Triss took Eskel by the hand and led him into a circular room with a dim blue light that seem to come from nowhere.

"This is a resonance chamber, admittedly a small one. We have a mage who specializes in magical resonance. He has trained himself to identify magical aptitude and abilities. Not many can do that."

"You can sense magic."

"Yes, but after it has been expended. Magnus is different. He can sense the innate ability. While the skilled can make anyone into a mage, there are those that are more desirable for their natural aptitude. Also, they are more likely to survive the transformation.

Magnus found me shortly after I came to Kovir. He's, well…you'll see." From the other side of the room an invisible door opened, and an old man walked carefully into the center. The top of his head was smooth and shiny with a halo of fluffy white hair and an appropriately long white beard that reached his knees over his white robes. In one hand was a twisted walking stick. Or at least that what it appeared to be. He looked up and Eskel was struck by the gentle smile and crystal clear blue eyes.

"Well, well…You did not tell me he was a Witcher. This should be quite interesting." His voice was a light tenor, his smile genuine as he then spoke to Eskel directly. "I am Magnus. Triss has told me a few things about you but I don't like to know too much before I examine someone." He leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner, "It ruins the surprise." Eskel found himself smiling back at the old man as Triss took his staff and left the chamber. "You're very powerful indeed. I feel it already. Let us see how far this goes, shall we? Give me your hand." Magnus held his hand out, palm up. Eskel hesitated for a moment then lay his hand on top. Magnus covered Eskel's with his other hand and closed his eyes.

Eskel looked around the room as the light dimmed and wondered what exactly was supposed to happen and if Magnus was crazy. A pressure began to build in his head and he tried to shake it off, but it persisted. The pressure turned into a spinning, yet he did not feel unsteady. The spinning intensified until it wrapped around him like a blanket squeezing him from the inside. His pulse sped up thudding in his ears and Eskel found himself panting. _Thud, thud…thud, thud…_ The pressure continued to build, pressing him tighter and tighter to something he could not quite define. Then, suddenly, there it was. A light. A spark deep inside. If he reached far enough he just might be able to touch it…

Then it was gone. The pressure abated, the thudding of his own heartbeat, all of it…gone. He stood as he had before, his hand clasped between that of the mage before him. Magnus release his hand and Triss returned with the twisted staff. Magnus waited for the confusion of the moment to wear off before speaking. And for the first time in his life, Eskel took a while to gather himself, unable to fully process what had just happened.

"A surprise indeed. Do you know where you came from?"

"Lyria, generally. Vesemir said I was brought to Kaer Morhen as a very young child. He got the impression I might have been an orphan. The witcher who brought me never said."

"Interesting…but probably for the best for everyone including yourself. Eskel, you harbor a very strong power."

"His Witcher's Signs are stronger than normal, and he has random episodes of prescience." Triss commented.

"That is because of this deep magic. It was a good thing the Witchers found you first."

"Why?"

"Given your approximate age, there would have been some very nasty fellows, mages, around when you were found. The things they would have done to you…or the monster they could have turned you into. The Witcher's mutations have created a barrier that prevents you from consciously accessing your power. That accounts for the randomness of you other abilities. However, the magic you are able to freely access, your Signs, are bolstered by the power within."

Eskel let this sink in. On the Path, he had been called many things, monster included. The thought that he could have been something much worse…Would he have allowed it? His own personality had not been subsumed by the mutations and he did tend to be a little more tenderhearted, a trait he had learned to tamp down early on.

"Can you tell me why I have had more frequent occurrences?" Magnus looked from him to Triss and back.

"Magic seeks magic. At least that is the theory. Other than that, I cannot say. Even practitioners of my advanced age don't understand everything and be suspicious of anyone who says they do. Guard your secret diligently, Eskel. There are those who would still seek to use your power for their own ends." Eskel and Triss walked home in silence. He sat while she prepared dinner, still saying nothing. She had been right. He had received answers that he had not expected and still wasn't sure what to make of them. It wasn't until she placed the food on the table and sat beside him did he finally find his voice, yet he could only speak of the mundane.

"I picked up a contract yesterday. It'll take me out for a few nights. I'll leave in the morning."

"Alright." They lapsed back into an uncomfortable silence. Eskel's appetite was leaving him. He wanted to talk about it with her but didn't know what to say.

"Did you learn what you wanted this afternoon?" He began.

"You're upset." Triss dissembled.

"No. Just…it's a lot to take in. My life could have been different if the wrong person found me. That's…" Eskel shrugged.

"I understand. I have never felt from someone else what I feel from you. It doesn't change the way I feel about you. I told you that earlier and I meant it."

"Which is?" Eskel looked up at her, waiting.

"I love you."

"I like to hear you say it," he said with a smile.

* * *

After finishing his contract, he headed back to Pont Vanis. He was several hours away from home but still took the road at a leisurely pace. The sky was clear and sunny and Triss was busy, so he decided to enjoy the pleasant weather.

A woman's scream broke his peace and a flock of birds shot out of the trees north of the road. Eskel spurred Scorpion off the path and through the woods. Exiting the trees, he hit another road teeming with monsters. Nekkers. Small, fast and smelly, they lived in large groups almost like a hive. Even in small numbers they were problematic for humans and the numbers here meant certain death.

Further up the road a wagon had crashed into a boulder, the nasty little beasts scratching and clawing at the wood. He jumped from his horse and began clearing the nekkers. Before checking inside the wagon, he threw some grapeshot into the nearby trees to keep them at bay until he could destroy the nests.

Eskel climbed into the wreckage and found a woman sprawled in the back. Her side was ripped open and she was bleeding profusely. He reached down to find a very weak pulse in her neck. Suddenly her hand shot up and grabbed his arm.

"Help me…" she rasped. Eskel didn't know what to say. Without magic, this woman had no chance. She shifted carefully and pushed a basket toward him.

"Protect them…" In the basket were two infants that she had shielded with her own body. Eskel was stunned at what she was asking.

"Where is your husband?" The woman gave a sad shake of her head.

"Dead…up the road."

"Don't you have any other family?"

"No! You…protect them…Promise me…" her grip tightened as she swallowed and took short gasping breaths. As he stared at her, she released his arm and reached up to touch his wolf head medallion. "Please…"

"Okay." He said. What else could he say to a dying mother? She closed her eyes and gave him a tired smile.

"Th-thank y…" her hand fell from his medallion as she slipped into the world beyond. Eskel laid her hands across her stomach and stood. Now he had to think of something to do with the children. As he looked down at the tiny wiggling bundles, a long-forgotten memory came flooding back…

 _"_ _The infertility is not reversible."_

 _"_ _That doesn't matter to me, Eskel."_

 _"_ _I won't do that to you. I'm sorry…"_

Eskel flipped open the large trunk and sifted through its contents. At the bottom was a smaller box. It contained some jewelry, a surprising amount of gold and a journal. He secured it behind his saddle along with a bag of some small clothes and blankets. He tied a long shawl around his chest and tucked the tiny babies into the pockets in front. If he rode fast, he could make Pont Vanis before the court closed for the day. King Tancred was the best way to protect them. He was just a witcher.

He rode fast but steady, trying not to jostle them but fortunately the motion seemed to soothe them. The walls of the summer capital came into view late in the afternoon. He rode straight through the gates and onto the streets, but an overturned cart and milling crowd forced him to stop. As he waited for an opening, the infants began to mewl against his chest. An old woman at the edge of the crowd looked up at him and Eskel moved scorpion away from her.

"What do you have there, Witch Man?" She called. Others near her stopped to look at the witcher in their midst. The crying became louder and more people started calling out and shouting and moving toward him. He needed to get to the castle.

Scorpion backed up, shying from the crowd. Eskel kicked his side ordering him forward. Up and over the cart they went but the milling crowd had turned into an angry mob as their quary escaped and would not be deterred. Galloping as fast as he dared on the slick cobbled streets, he made the gate to the castle and climbed down from his horse as the guard came out to meet the angry people. He pushed into the heavy doors, the raucous noise following him in. The guard was on alert and sealed the door behind Eskel.

"What mischief have you brought with you, witcher?" King Tancred asked from his throne. Eskel stopped a passing maid and handed her one of the squalling infants. Triss rushed down the steps of the dais and he handed her the other. She cradled the child carefully but looked up at him in shock.

"Eskel…where did you get them?" Her voice betrayed her fear. She knew well the tales told about their kind.

"Nekkers had overtaken travelers on the road a few hours from here. He was dead, and she was dying. She begged me to take them. I couldn't leave them there. This was the only thing I could think of." Triss looked back down at the baby in her arms. Using her sleeve, she wiped away the streak of blood down the side of the tiny face. She had assumed it had been from the mother but beneath was an angry red claw mark. The child's face would forever bear a scar down the right side. The King joined them and took the infant from the maid, sending her to fetch the Queen and her servant. Eskel untied the shawl and dropped it to the floor as the Queen came to take the orphans away. Something inside him didn't want to see them go and he wondered what would become of them.

"What of the mob that followed you here?" Tancred asked him.

"It's been a long time since I was chased by a mob," Eskel said after he finished his brief tale. Tancred turned to his guard.

"Open the doors. I will speak to my people. Witcher…follow." Eskel followed the King as the doors were opened, the guard outside holding back the mob. The scene before them usually ended with someone swinging from the end of a rope. Triss slipped her hand in his and he gave her a gentle squeeze. The King raised his hands, signally that he wished to speak, and the mob quieted. When he spoke, King Tancred's booming voice rolled easily over the crowd.

"Why do you bring this rabble to my step?"

"The Witch Man is stealing children!" It was the old woman. How she got to the front of the crowd Eskel couldn't imagine.

" _Stealing_ children?"

"To make more freaks! Tha' where they come from! stole children!" Someone else called.

"If that were true, then there would be a witcher on every corner. This witcher rescued orphans from a pack of monsters. Go back to your homes and rest easy. A suitable home will be found." The people began to mummer and those as the back drifted away. The castle guard urged the rest to leave as well until only the old woman remained.

"Go, Old Mother. You have done your duty." The King said to her. She nodded then shuffled away. From a pocket in her apron fell a very tattered copy of _Monstrum._ He sighed. "People still believe this filth. Shame. Wait a while, Eskel, then go. They will forget soon enough."

 _They always do,_ Eskel thought, _they always do._

* * *

It had been a long and dangerous journey, but he had made it safely to the sunny shores of his homeland. With one hand resting on his dagger, more out of habit than necessity at this point, and the other clutching the leather strap across his chest, the small man walked with purpose up the steps of the castle of King Tancred. The guards at the door immediately jumped into action and pulled open the massive doors and the maids clucked in dismay at the dirty footprints he left behind as he made his way across the marble floor of the empty hall.

The heavy door was closed but a light shone from beneath and there was a hum of voices. He did not stop to knock but boldly entered the room. The King sat in conference with his advisor. Good. That would be one less trip to make. He loosened the buckle on his mud stained bag and lay it on the table.

"Your Majesty, Sorceress." He acknowledged them each with a deferential nod. They said nothing but merely waited for the news he brought. "We need to prepare for war."


	7. Ties That Bind

"War?" Triss echoed, clearly dismayed at this news.

"How soon?" The King's calm baritone asked.

"It's not immediate, but I recommend we gather the militias and the mercenaries and begin training. Nilfgaard has been gathering troops in the capital city," the small man took a seat, leaning back casually. "They are just getting started. But something Nilfgaard has always been is organized and ruthless. They also have ships. We are going to need help. An alliance would be good right about now." Tancred sighed and leaned back in his heavy chair.

"I have already received requests from Novigrad to help secure the walls as has Cerys. An alliance between us would be beneficial indeed. We need to send out runners. Triss…" But Triss had already dipped her quill and was writing the first of many urgent messages to gather the troops.

* * *

The summer was waning, and the King had given Triss a day of rest after weeks of constant writing, planning, and official royal visits. She would be able to return to Toussaint with Eskel but would have return throughout the winter.

The morning had dawned bright and beautiful, inside as well as out. Since she was home for the day, the lovers lingered in one another's company, but the afternoon sun eventually drew them out doors. Triss was kneeling in front of a flower and herb garden and Eskel sat rubbing oil into a newly purchased bridle, softening the leather when they received a very unexpected guest. The full royal entourage approached, dismounted and stood at attention as the King rode between them then himself dismounted.

"Your Majesty," Triss said in surprise jumping up. Eskel casually wiped his hands on the rag across his lap before standing. "This is unexpected."

"It has come to my attention, Witcher, that you have asked after the children. Frequently."

"I have," Eskel admitted quietly.

"It seems that there is no one interested in taking in two more mouths to feed. And less now that the tents have gone up outside the city walls. And it occurs to me that since you seem so interested in their welfare, maybe you should be in charge of it." He motioned behind him and a nursemaid came forward carrying the infants.

"Me?"

"Well, the both of you. You have not been alone in your inquires," his gazed shifted to Triss and she colored and lowered her head. Tancred chuckled. "You've never spoken of this?"

"I…just…" Triss stammered. The nurse passed the twins over, one to Triss, the other to Eskel. "We don't know anything about raising children." The nurse bobbed a curtsy.

"That's why I sent for my niece, My Lady. She's young, to be sure, but has the care of her many younger siblings. She's a steady girl and her family could use the extra income with all those children." She curtsied again and returned to the carriage. Eskel stood staring down at the little girl in his hands. So much was running through his mind just then, but he remained silent. The King cleared his throat and continued.

"Triss I wish I could allow you some time to adapt to your new family, but we have matters to attend to. I will expect to see you in the council chambers early tomorrow morning."

"Of course, Sire." He turned to leave and as he reached up to mount his great gelding, Eskel found his voice.

"Why did you bring them?"

"I thought I made that understood."

"Not _why,_ but why _you?"_ He released the saddle and faced Eskel fully.

"There are those that still loath and fear your kind. Mutants, mages and the like. It was a show for the people that you are to be trusted. I am going to need them to trust you before all this is over."

"Thank you." The royal envoy mounted and left them standing in front of the cottage pondering what else the future held in store for them.

* * *

Triss woke to find the other side of the bed empty. She pushed back the covers and slipped into her robe before going to find him. Eskel stood in the kitchen before the fire looking down into the basket.

"Eskel? Come to bed."

"There was a time I dreamed of this moment, but now that it is actually here, I'm not sure what to do with it." He said softly. Triss joined him and slipped her arm around his waist as he draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Neither do I. But I never realized this was something you thought about."

"It's been a long time but yes. I gave up and walked away." Eskel moved to sit on the bench and Triss joined him, waiting for more of the story. He was in a rare mood to talk and she in the mood to listen. There was still so much about him that she did not know.

"Her name was Rina. Young, beautiful and in love with me. And I loved her in return. She wanted to have a child. My child. I tried every potion, herb, and folk remedy I came across for two years. That last summer I found a derelict mages tower. Inside I found a remnant from the mage's journal. It held an astonishing amount of information on the Witcher's mutations, including that the infertility was irreversible. It was done that way on purpose as a way to control us. If we were unable to breed, then any desire to have a life outside of the order was quashed and the sorcerer could keep tabs on his creations.

After I found that journal, I knew I couldn't stay with her any longer. On my way back to Kaer Morhen, I ended it. She was broken hearted, but it was for the best. I couldn't let her waste herself on me. Some years later I got up the courage to go back. She had married and had ten children. Named the oldest boy after me." Triss slid her hand into his and held tight.

"We could name this one after you." She said trying to cheer him up. Eskel handed her the journal he found in the chest on the wagon. He had read it many times since handing over the infants to the King. Using her free hand, she flipped through the pages.

"These children already have names. Rayden and Isabella. I thought we could give them the name Merigold, though, since I have no idea what my surname is." He turned his head and gave her a smile. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"That's wonderful, but, truthfully…I'm terrified. Being responsible for children was never something I thought would happen to me. When I became a sorceress and they told me all that it means…I was so focused on how I could help people that I stopped thinking about what I had lost." Eskel slipped his arm around her again and they sat in the quiet of the night watching the fire die down.

* * *

The next morning, Eskel sat on the porch sharping his sword. It had been a rough first night. The boy was easy enough, but the little girl…She only calmed when Eskel held her to his bare chest and began to hum, his hot breath blowing down over her downy head. It was a song that he had always known, just not where it came from.

He opened his eyes to see a man ride up to the cottage, a girl on the back of the horse. They came to a stop and she slid off and walked toward him, a basket on her arm. Eskel, assuming this was the servant's niece, stood and went to meet her.

"Kari!" The man said sharply behind her and she stopped. She was young, about fifteen or sixteen, with a willowy build. Eskel noticed her take a slow deep breath as her father came up and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. He turned a wary eye on Eskel.

"No one said nothin' about no freaks."

"I'm a witcher."

"A freak."

"Papa!"

"What exactly do you have against witchers?" Eskel asked casually but the man still squirmed beneath his yellow gaze.

"You be freaks of nature, killers…seducers." He squeezed his daughters shoulder as he said the last.

"You can rest easy then. I am a freak of sorcery not nature, I kill only when necessary and, as pretty as your daughter is, I have a grown woman to warm my bed."

"There is a woman here?"

"She is not here at the moment, but yes."

"I expect I'll have to escort her home in the evenin'." Eskel saw the girl's face tense up.

"It's a live-in position. Triss spends most of her days at the castle with the King and I will be away from home days at a time when I pick up a contract. She will also be traveling back to Toussaint with us in the winter. I have a vineyard there. Triss is King Tancred's advisor so we'll be here in the summer." Eskel saw a gleam in the man's eye and he knew he was counting up the gold coins. Behind him there came a tiny plaintive cry that mobilized the girl to action. She pulled from her father's rough grasp and went toward the door with purpose. Eskel turned to follow.

"I'll expect payment regular." Eskel stopped and shook his head.

"You'll get your gold." Then followed the girl inside and closed the door. He watched her lift the crying babe and cradle him, cooing. Rayden calmed at her touch.

"Your name is Kari, I take it. How old are you?"

"Fifteen. I have been running the entire household for four years. Mama falls into childbed rather frequently. I thought I was to come alone, but when Papa heard it was for the King's advisor…" Kari shrugged. "I want a home and family of my own one day, but that won't happen if I lived with Mama and Papa. Papa has a greedy streak."

"He knew?"

"Yes. He was testing you. See if you would be honest about it."

"So, all that talk about freaks…"

"Oh, no, he was being serious. He hates anything abnormal. I'm sorry. That wasn't a very nice thing to say."

"I'm used to it." Eskel said. He moved over to look down at his newest responsibility and Kari shied ever so slightly. "I meant what I said to your father. You have no need to be afraid of me. And Triss and I will make sure you have something of your own, not just send everything to your father." She looked sharply up at him, eyes wide.

"Really?"

"Really."

"That's…thank you."

"I know what it's like to be at another's mercy."

"But you're a witcher." Kari said as if that was the obvious answer.

"I could force others to my will, yes, but that is not who I am. And what I am was created to help humanity, not hurt it. And I have stood by that for nearly a century even as witchers fell into disfavor, as people have cursed and spit at me…feared me." Eskel leaned over and scooped up the tiny little girl as she began to stir. "But now, I live my own life. Without regard to what others may think of me."

"What about the scars? Did you get them from a monster?"

"No. A crazy person." Kari fell silent as she resettled Rayden and took stock of what was in the other basket left by the nursemaid.

"You'll need to buy a goat." She said suddenly.

"Goat?"

"For milk." Kari straightened up and looked at him. "You really don't know anything about babies, do you?" Eskel laughed at her surprise.

"I trained with a sword since I could walk. Not exactly what you would call a normal upbringing. So, no, I don't know much about babies. I do know a little something about goats, though."

* * *

He hated his job. Really, really hated his job. But to refuse was to forfeit his life. The clerk took a deep breath and pushed through the large door. Emhyr was resting in a large chair, eyes closed. The clerk stopped several feet away and cleared his throat. The Emperor opened his eyes slowly and turned his head to face his servant.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice tired and agitated.

"Your Eminence, we have found them. It seems they headed north to Kovir."

"And?"

"I…she is dead." The clerk flinched as Emhyr picked up his goblet and threw it. Quickly the clerk continued. "But she had given birth to a child not long ago. It seems a witcher took the child to King Tancred. After that…we don't know. Also, I was asked to put this directly in your hands." He produced a sealed missive and laid it his master's palm. Emhyr broke the wax and unrolled the parchment, his eyes scanning its contents.

"Has anyone else read this?"

"Of course not, Your Eminence. It was for your eyes only." Emhyr began to laugh, a deep dark sound that sent chills down the other man's spine.

"Two birds with one stone. Bring the Witcher to me."


	8. And the Knife That Cuts

Winter that year was rough. Lambert and Keira moved from the main house into an empty cottage on the vineyard property. Kari and the twins took the room upstairs but that was only a temporary solution. Plans were made for an addition for the spring. Late nights with crying babies and Triss bouncing back and forth between Toussaint and Kovir made for a very crabby witcher. When the earliest of the spring rains arrived, Eskel had had enough of listening to Lambert tease him about his new little bleater, so he saddled up and left. Triss had taken Kari and the twins with her the last time she went to Kovir, knowing she would not be returning.

He had taken a familiar road out through Lyria. He thought back to a couple years ago, when he made his original trip back to Triss, and wondered if the desperate group of refuges had found safety at last. Turning Scorpion's head, he made a slight adjustment to his direction. A few days later, Eskel was ready for a break. The weather was beginning to turn, and he was hungry. Fortunately, his destination loomed ahead, a bright beacon in the dark.

Riding in, he could tell this place was well occupied. Chickens strutted in the streets, windows and doors had been repaired and several horses stood tethered in front of the alehouse. He pushed opened the door to the inn to find it brimming with people. Nearest the door were a pair of rough looking young men. The one closest looked up at him and sneered.

"Get out, freak."

"Shut your mouth Harlin." A woman came from behind the counter and smacked the man over the head with her towel. "You wouldn't have a place to lay your head if it weren't for him." She turned and spoke directly to Eskel. He recognized her pale blue eyes, the loose curl of her hair and the lilt of her voice. She was the woman who brought him a plate of roasted venison that night a few years ago. "Don't listen to that fool. Just spews whatever tripe he hears on the road. You are welcome here, Witcher. Come, let me get you some proper food." Eskel followed her and reached for the leather pouch at his waist.

"And you just put that away," she said.

"I always pay my way."

"Not here. We owe you, is how I see it. A meal here and there and a bed to sleep in is hardly enough for the life we have now. You have a seat. Muri will bring it out to you." Eskel took a seat at a table on the far side of the room. Shortly a girl of about ten came carrying a bowl and bread. She had been one of the waiflike children hanging on her mother's skirt. Now, her cheeks were rosy and full and her curls bounced around her head. The girl approached him without hesitation or fear.

"I'll bring some ale for you." She said with a smile. A man with broad shoulders and thick arms joined him across the table.

"So, witchers actually do come here."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't mean no harm. You're the first witcher I've seen and a place that calls itself The Witcher's Rest, well…"

"The Witcher's Rest?"

"Didn't see the sign out front? Anna named it that. Said you demanded nothing in return for clearing out the monsters here. Just a meal and a bed so she's determined to give you one, every time you show up. I myself came here, starving and the people took me in, fed me. They needed able bodied men, so I stayed. Pretty good place to start over." Muri returned with the promised ale and Eskel thanked her. The girl giggled and ran back to the kitchen. It was a first for him.

"Muri seems rather taken with you, already."

"They usually run for a different reason," Eskel admitted.

"I bet I can guess why. Name's Elias."

"Eskel."

"I'm more or less the Alderman here. Old Tymon passed away last winter. He took me in when I showed up. There wasn't much here, but they shared none the less. He told me all bout you. Said I should keep a look out if you ever showed back up and make sure everyone that comes through here knows what you did." Eskel looked down into his bowl, not knowing what to say. People were usually reluctant to seek his help, insulted him almost constantly, then quickly forgot the service rendered when it came time to pay up. He had never expected anyone to remember his deeds or continue to be so very grateful. Loud clanging bells rang out. Elias stood.

"What's that?"

"Bandits. We have a watch but…" Another bell tolled. "Damn it. We could use your help, Eskel, if you don't mind." Men were scrambling from the inn as Anna ushered the children into the root cellar. Eskel stood and followed Elias out the door.

Outside the rain came down steady and the clash of metal could already be heard. Eskel walked to the middle of the main road as a heavily armed bandit came running up. He stopped and let out a bark of laughter.

"Looks like the good folks got themselves a witcher, boys!" Eskel kept one eye on the man before him as others began to join them in front of the inn. The men of the village came running behind, injured or exhausted. Eskel had seen groups like this before. They were well organized, well-armed, and meaner than an injured chort. Most likely they were former soldiers who found themselves adrift after the war.

Water dripped from his hair, his jacket was soaked but he'd had decades to learn to fight in all kinds of weather. He saw some of the bandits slip in the mud. He could take them, easily, but he waited. He caught Elias' eye and saw him grab the man next to him and take several steps back. The bandit leader took a few steps forward.

"I always wanted me one of them fancy medallions. Looks like a wolf hanging around your neck. I like wolves. I think I'll take yours." Eskel reached back and pulled out his steel sword and held it low.

"Come and take it." He said quietly. The bandit ran at him, laughing and Eskel easily blocked the heavy cleaver style sword and kicked its owner in the chest. He came at him again, angry, and again Eskel easily blocked and parried. With a side-stepping spin, Eskel brought his blade down on flesh. Holding his arm, the man roared in pain and displeasure.

"Don't just stand there! Get the freak!" The others ran at Eskel. He stuck the point of his sword in the ground and using both hands cast aard to knock them back into the mud. One by one they got to their feet, slipping and sliding, and Eskel grabbed his sword and finished them. He walked over to the leader who lay panting in the mud as rain spattered on his face. Crouching down he looked the man in the eye.

"The only way to get a Witcher's medallion is to find one that is already dead. Even then, you have to ask yourself, who or what killed him? You have two choices. You have something we witchers call Hanged Man's Venom running through your body. I can leave you alone and you'll die in agony, screaming. Or I can finish you quick. Take your pick." The bandit stared up at him, spit streaming though his clenched teeth as the pain began to take hold already.

"Quick…do it quick." Eskel unbuckled the chest plate, stood and shifted the grip on his sword.

"Good choice." He slammed the point of the blade in the man's chest and twisted then pulled it free of the limp body. He sheathed his weapon and looked around the men there. Some looked pleased, some stood in awe, all were relieved. Elias joined him with Harlin in his wake.

"You didn't have to give him a choice." Harlin said, confused.

"You're right, I didn't. But then, I am not a monster." Eskel felt a gentle touch at his elbow. Anna stood beside him urging him to come in out of the rain. Another look around showed him the other women of the community tending to the wounded. Wordlessly he followed Anna back to The Witcher's Rest to find his own.

The following morning, as Eskel prepared to leave, Anna brought him a parcel, wrapped in cloth.

"Some cured meat and cheese. For the road," she said. "And thank you again. Remember, you are always welcome here. I believe Elias and Harlin are waiting for you outside." He turned to leave and felt a tug on his jacket. It was Muri come to say her own goodbye. He crouched down, and she leaned in quickly and placed a light kiss on his cheek before ducking back behind her mother. He smiled and left. Harlin had fed, brushed and saddled Scorpion. Apparently, the young man had forgotten his hostility of the previous night.

"I'm sorry," Harlin said, handing over the reins. "'Bout what I said. I was wrong about you." Eskel nodded to the young man and turned as Elias approached, hand extended.

"Well, Witcher, have a good journey," Elias aid. "I'm sure Anna already said, but you'll always have a place here."

* * *

Eskel travelled north, skirting the mountains of Mahakam. The plan was to follow the Pontar and cross at Oxenfurt then on to Novigrad from there. He had not been there since right after Geralt's death. The idea of getting to know the dwarf and the troubadour when times were good had a certain appeal.

As he traveled north, an increased presence of the Black Ones was a stark reminder of how far the once great Northern Kingdoms had fallen and that their fate was now in the hands of Nilfgaard. And Nilfgaard clearly could care less. The stain of poverty and hopelessness was everywhere. Emhyr had been on a land grab, expanding his empire to hand over to his daughter, Ciri. A plan that had ultimately failed.

Beside the gates of Vengerberg, the flag of the Black Sun hung. Eskel decided to go around. He was in no mood to tangle with the soldiers. Instead he crossed the river and headed toward Flotsam. When he reached the port, he was dismayed by the Nilfgaard presence. This time, he had no choice. Eskel dismounted and walked through. He had planned on stopping here but the unusual looks he was getting made him push on. Too many of the soldiers had eyed him too closely.

Once on the road again, Eskel felt more at ease. That ease would be upset a day or two later as he approached the walls of Hagge. A contingent of black armored soldiers sat on their mounts in formation across the road. Eskel pulled to a stop. The Commander held a falcon. They had been told he was coming. He sat silently. The commander walked his horse forward.

"The Emperor wishes to see you, Witcher."

"About?" Eskel asked, keeping his voice even.

"Not mine to know. The Emperor gives orders and I deliver." The company broke formation to encircle him as they began their trek to Vizima. As they closed in on their destination, Eskel removed his swords and slid them beneath the saddle strap. He wouldn't trust some castle porter with his prized weapons.

The Portcullis was up and the gate open when they arrived. The Black Sun flew here, also. They were greeted by a bevy of stable boys rushing out to take the heads of their mounts. Scorpion snorted as he was led away. Eskel looked around getting his bearings when the commander came to his side.

"Follow me. And keep your hands at your sides, Witcher. I am well aware that you are not unarmed though you carry no weapon." Eskel followed obediently. They had come in the north gate to Vizima. The Royal Quarter. All around were men and women in fine clothes that had been worn too long. Trash was beginning to collect in dark corners and cracks in the walls were left unrepaired. Vendors in the market waited on the few people that had any coin left to spend. A man chased a boy from his shop. Eskel saw the boy duck behind a barrel and share his bounty with a skinny dog. Even being directly in the shadow of the Emperor was taking its toll.

The courtyard was quiet. Servants moved silently and guards stood at attention, unmoving. It was unnatural. Eskel continued behind the commander into the great hall. The commander stopped at the stairs and motioned for him to continue up the red carpeted steps.

Eskel stood before the throne of Emhyr var Emreis, arms crossed, waiting. He had been drug to Vizima at the demand of the Emperor as he made his way north to Kovir and he would be damned if he would speak first. Emhyr didn't waste any time getting directly to his point.

"Where is the child, Witcher?" So, he had found out. It was a matter of time, but he had hoped it would take longer. A lot longer. Eskel said nothing. He had something very precious and he had no intention of giving it up. "So, is that how is it going to be?" Emhyr leaned forward. He looked worn and tired, his deep-set eyes with dark circles beneath the once black hair going grey, his skin gone sallow. He was not a well man. "You think to deny me? I _will_ have what I want. I always get what I want. Geralt couldn't stop me and you won't either."

"You didn't get Ciri." Eskel said coldly even though he knew he was pushing his luck. The Emperor leaned forward and sneered at Eskel.

"You are merely a _replacement_ , a secondhand Witcher, in yet another version of the same story." Emhyr spit out as he leaned back and waved to the guards who roughly led him out of the audience chamber. Eskel kept his attention on the guards immediately behind him, focusing on the thud of each step. It would have served him better to widen his attention or if his capricious abilities had been active because he missed the man that slid from the shadows until he was struck from behind and everything went dark.

* * *

The door swung open and the guards shoved Eskel in and onto the floor.

"Here's another one for you." The guard yelled.

"Well, put him where he's supposed to go. I sure can't pick him up off the floor!" A woman's voice snapped. The guard grinned as he grabbed Eskel roughly by the collar and hauled him up before dropping him to a cold slab and strapping his hands and feet. He didn't fight it. He couldn't. His neck and head throbbed, and his vision was blurred. He could feel the circulation being cut off from his hand as the last strap was tightened.

"There you go, freak." The guard leaned in close, his fowl breath making Eskel sick. "Try and get outta that."

"That's enough. _Get out_." The grinning guard backed up and left the room. "Mikel, why don't you go and get some fresh leather straps from the stablemaster. And take your time just as long as you are back before the Emperor arrives." The guard in the corner got up and stretched then left. The door latched securely in his wake.

"Gods, Eskel…what are you…Oh no…no." Yen had rested her hand on his forehead and felt the hum of magic. Eskel was the one. Her heart sank even as her mind raced. She returned to her shelves and pulled down a small bottle and a larger container. The slab sat at an angle, so she lay the mystery tub on his chest.

"Yen?"

"Drink up," Yen pulled the cork on the bottle and poured its contents into his mouth. Eskel coughed. "What _is_ that?"

"It's going to save your life." She dipped her finger into the tub and came out with a glob of what looked like pond scum but smelled worse. She stuck her finger in his mouth and raked the goop off on his teeth. "Swallow."

"Yen, what is going on? Why am I here? Gods…my head." Yen left him to put the container away. "Are you going to answer my question?" He asked again when she returned, trying not to throw up. Yen looked over her shoulder then back at him.

"We don't have much time, so listen carefully. You are here because of the magic you harbor. What I gave you should keep you alive until Triss can find you. You should also tell her that her precious Council has a spy. I can't control what is going to happen next, and I am sorry. Sorrier than you could know."

"What _about_ the magic I harbor, Yen? What exactly is so damned important about it?" He demanded. Yen looked pained then leaned down to whisper in his ear. Footsteps could be heard outside the door as soldiers filed up and stood at attention. Voices rose as the Emperor approached.

"This is going to hurt." She said lastly before the door opened and the Emperor of Nilfgaard entered. He walked slowly with a slight limp and sat gingerly in the chair opposite the slab.

"You see, Witcher. I always get what I want." Emhyr leaned back with an evil smile. "When you are ready, Sorceress." His voice still managed to fill the room with his cold command even though he sounded tired.

"Of course." Yen took up her position between the two and just before she began her incantation, she looked back at him, her eyes brimming with fear and sorrow. It began as a tingle that started in his fingers and toes but quickly turned into a deep shock threatening to rip him apart. As a witcher, Eskel had experienced pain. Pain that would make a lesser man weep. But this…this was different. It was beyond pain. It was ripping at his very soul. The last thing he heard was his own scream filling his ears.


	9. Secondhand Witcher

_Author's note: Please forgive the extreme tardiness of this update. My muse took an extended vacation to another world and was reluctant to come back. (Feel free to interpret that as a non-Witcher story in the works). Thank you for your patience and enjoy._

* * *

The hushed voices intruded on the darkness and Eskel tried to open his eyes. His lids were so heavy. He tried to move his hand to no avail. He felt detached from his body. The voices were getting louder, arguing. A man and a woman. They sounded familiar, but he couldn't bring up names or faces in his mind's eye. He groaned in frustration. Suddenly the arguing stopped, and cool, soft hands stroked his forehead, a woman's voice murmured to him and he was enveloped in the sweet scent of strawberries. He stilled and drifted back into the fathomless darkness.

Triss carefully closed the door behind her and Lambert turned on her.

"He's been lying there for two days! We need to wake him up!"

"Lambert, we don't even know what's happened to him or why."

"All the more reason to wake him up!"

"But if he is not ready to wake," said a gentle tenor voice, "you may do more harm than good." Lambert looked over his shoulder and scowled.

"This doesn't concern you, old man."

"Lambert!" Triss pushed past him. "Magnus, I'm sorry. We're all out of sorts here."

"That is alright, my dear. I came looking for you and this young lady offered me a cup of tea." Magnus tuned his blue eyes on Lambert. "You must be Lambert, the bitter and impulsive brother. You belong to a unique brotherhood, Lambert."

" _Belonged_. Two are dead and a third might join them. And I've got a lot to be bitter about." Magnus considered Lambert for a moment before Kari brought him a cup of tea.

"Ah! Thank you. And yes, Lambert, I agree you do have a lot to be bitter about. Being essentially sold off by your own father…"

"How do you know that?"

"I seem to have gleaned a few of Eskel's memories. It happens from time to time when I examine someone the way I examined Eskel." Triss invited Magnus to sit at the table with them while Kari slipped off to check on the napping twins.

"Magnus," she began, "I can't feel the vibration anymore."

"Yet he lives. I told you it was good the witchers found him first."

"He has been unconscious for two days but there isn't a mark on him." Lambert complained again.

"But he is injured just the same, although it is not an injury you would be familiar with. It is usually found among mages when their power has been drained, which can be self-inflicted or not. There are things that one can take to prevent death but to use those substances could mean death."

"Someone siphoned off his power? Wouldn't the witcher's mutations have blocked them, too?" Triss asked.

"It blocks _him_. I'm not so certain that is true for a skilled mage." There was a thump from the bedroom then the door swung open. Lambert jumped to his feet as Eskel shuffled out, one hand on the wall, the other on his head. He draped Eskel's arm over his shoulders and wrapped his own around Eskel's waist. For all his bluster and biting comments, Lambert cared for his brothers, especially now that he only had one left. Eskel eased to the bench across from Magnus. The old wizard said nothing as he sipped his tea.

"Drink," Eskel croaked. Triss quickly fetched him a tall tankard of ale. He downed the entire tankard then sighed. Triss and Lambert waited.

"Good afternoon." Magnus said. Eskel grunted.

"What gets you out of bed?" he asked.

"A dream…memory…then I puked my guts up."

"And what was so upsetting?"

"Pond scum."

"Pond scum?" Magnus queried.

"She gave it to me…right before." Eskel laid his forehead on the smooth wood table.

"She?" Magnus continued to gently question him. Eskel turned his head to the side and looked at Triss.

"Yen. Yen was there." Triss gasped and Lambert's face turned red with anger.

"That two-faced bitch!" he yelled but Eskel shook his head as he sat up.

"She did it to save us. You and me. Emhyr rescinded the kill order and she stayed to serve him. Then she poured a bottle of something down my throat and fed me this awful slime. It tasted just as bad coming up as it did going down." Eskel dropped his head back down to the table.

"Eskel," Magnus said, "may I have your hand, please?" Eskel slid it toward him without lifting his head. He felt he mage's warm touch and was soon engulfed by the gentle squeeze of air, but it was over almost as soon as it began. He lifted his head.

"Well?"

"Your power will return in time. You may feel a bit…disconnected for a while. This Yen seems to be aware of your tolerances. She is also very skilled and stopped just shy of draining you dry. Who is she?"

"Yennefer of Vengerberg. How could she?" Triss said in disbelief.

"Don't be angry with her. She had no choice. Sit down, both of you. Kari, could I have something to eat, please?" Kari jumped at the sound of his voice as she entered the room again but swiftly turned to the pot over the fire and served him up a hearty bowl of slow cooked meat and fresh bread. They all watched silently while he ate. When Eskel emptied the wooden bowl, he sat up straighter, feeling slightly renewed on a full belly.

"Emhyr is dying. He has been trying some old dusty spell that converts magic to life, or something like that. Yen has been the only one strong enough to pull it off and live. But the sources haven't been powerful enough to reverse the disease."

"Until you." Triss said.

"Until me."

"I am familiar with this spell. It also explains the substances she used. Your 'pond scum' is a type of algae that puts the user into a death-like state. The potion was most likely one of your Witcher's potions, Swallow, I believe? She might have even sacrificed a small portion of her own magic to finish the spell in order to preserve your life." Magnus sipped his tea.

"She said it would keep me alive until Triss could find me. What could she have meant by that? Did she find you?" Eskel addressed Triss and he watched her turn her eyes away from him. "Triss?"

"I…I cast a spell on you. Yen would have sensed it. Don't look at me like that. It would let me find you if you were hurt, that's all. With all that is happening, I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, too." She wiped away the tears trying to push back her fears. Eskel reached out and took her hand and gave her a gentle squeeze before continuing.

"All of this brings up another problem. The Council has a spy. That's how they knew about me." Eskel looked from Triss to Magnus. Magnus set down his tea cup.

"How can you be sure I am not the spy?" he asked.

"I would have known." Eskel said quietly. "I have a sense that you are fleeing something from a long time ago. A refusal to bow."

"I guess it works both ways." Magnus took another languid sip.

"Why is he doing this?" Triss asked.

"The same reason he fought Geralt over Ciri. An heir. Triss, he wants the twins, only he doesn't realize they are twins."

"Oh, no…"

"Hold on. I'm missing something here." Lambert said confused.

"Their mother was a cousin to Emhyr. She got wind that he wanted to marry her off, she eloped with a merchant she had fallen in love with. They managed to hide for a little while, but when she became pregnant, they decided to get as far from Emhyr as possible and made the ill-fated trip to Kovir.

When I found them, she was adamant that I should be the one to protect them. It didn't make much sense at the time until I read a journal I found among their belongings."

"You know he isn't going to give up. He'll come for them." Lambert said. Eskel looked across the room as Kari held Isabella while Rayden pulled at her skirt.

"Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

Eskel convalesced at home peacefully outwardly. Inside, he raged with questions and frustrations. In the early days, he tired easily. This was not something he was accustomed to. Even in the lazy days of winter, they still had work and training. Merely walking across the room wore him out. He pushed himself daily even though Triss said he needed to rest until his inner power restored itself.

After a couple of weeks of sitting, Eskel waited until Triss left then dressed in his full gear and grabbed his sword. Kari looked up at the sound of him trudging through the house, his swords dragging behind him. He ignored her as he opened the door and ventured out into the afternoon sun.

Across the yard he placed one foot in front of the other, making slow but diligent progress. Finally, he squared up in front of the practice dummy and hefted his sword from the scabbard. He used a two-handed grip and his whole upper body to swing the blade. It made contact with the tightly packed straw but didn't have enough momentum to cut. Eskel pulled it back with a grunt and swung it again and again until the forward motion pulled him off his feet. He dropped the weapon and caught himself, kneeling on all fours while he panted to catch his breath. As he knelt feeling sorry for himself, gentle hands came around him and pulled him near.

"Eskel, you shouldn't be out here." Triss said softly.

"I can't just sit here, Triss. What if Emhyr comes for them? I can't…won't…let him take them. You know what he called me? A secondhand witcher."

"You are second to no one." Triss said, knowing full well the other connotation being 'secondhand' had. She loved him for his own sake, not just because he was a witcher and certainly not as a replacement for Geralt.

"I thought I could speed things up…"

"There is no speeding up." She said. He sat back on his heels. "I found some old writings about this spell. Anyone who does survive just has to wait until the magic begins to replicate."

"How long?"

"Days, years…everyone is different. If you were another mage I could transfer some of my power to you, like a jump start. But I don't know if that would work with you. We could still try it…"

"No. One of us needs to be at full strength."

"And I need you. Please don't hurt yourself trying to do something that only takes time." Eskel struggled to his feet, leaning on his sword. Triss wanted to help him but let him be. She understood the helplessness. Once he was upright, she offered her hand and he slid his arm over her shoulders knowing he couldn't make it back on his own.

* * *

After the episode in the yard, Eskel stopped trying to push himself. Summer would be coming to an end before long and he decided not to stress Triss any more than she already was. Instead, he turned his focus inward, resuming the long hours of meditation he had once undertaken as a young witcher. Other times, he gave his attention over to his two young wards. Their playfulness gave his mind a much-needed break from his worries. One afternoon, he sat with his feet propped up preparing to re-read one of his favorite tomes when a tiny visitor came pulling at his leg.

"Boo," she said in her little high-pitched voice.

"Boo," Eskel replied running his hand over her silky blonde curls. Her tiny hand gripped the material of his pants as she climbed up. He put a hand under her bottom and assisted her climb. She reached across his lap and patted the heavy leather-bound book tucked between his thigh and the arm of the chair.

"Boo!" She said excitedly. He chuckled stupidly.

"Oh. Book. Do you want me to read to you?" Isabella clapped her hands. Eskel pulled the book out and opened it revealing a drawing of a wyvern.

"Monsr." Isabella said with a serious face.

"Wyvern," Eskel said to her. "It's a draconid." The baby looked at him then patted the pages. Eskel began to read the words he almost knew by heart while the little girl curled up in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest. Every few minutes he would stop thinking she had fallen asleep but she would make some incomprehensible sound and point at the book. After twenty minutes, Isabella had finally drifted off to sleep and so had he.

* * *

 **Winter, Nilfgaard City**

The Emperor of Nilfgaard stood out on the balcony of his palace overlooking the City of Golden Towers, the seat of his power. He squeezed the railing before him, his grip firm, his hands strong once more.

He watched the people below as they scurried from one place to another occasionally looking up at the watcher above then hurrying out of the biting cold. He also watched his armies as they drilled in the cold, the golden sun on their black chests shining through the snowfall. This time he would be ready. This time he would fight fire with fire.

The small voice of his clerk encouraged him to come in out of the weather…but no. No, he would stay out in the cold. He felt alive and vigorous. Strength one again coursed through his veins. So here he would stand until the word had spread. The Master had returned.

* * *

 **Winter, Toussaint**

Eskel woke feeling refreshed for the first time in months and stretched. Although it was morning and he could hear others moving around the manor, his bedroom was dark owing to no windows. Leaning over he lit the candle on the bedside table. He smiled at the little flame then turned to curl himself around the woman at his side.

Triss stirred beneath his touch and quickly became aware of the hard length pressed into her hip. She opened her eyes to find him gazing down at her, a sensual eagerness in his face. Running her hands up his arms and over his shoulders she sighed as the hum slid beneath her skin.

She inhaled suddenly, her eyes wide. It was back.

Eskel leaned down to kiss her, savoring the softness of her lips. The last time they had made love was in this bed last spring. Even once he had regained some strength, he still managed to fall asleep before his head hit the pillow every night, leaving little to no opportunity for intimacy. And when they did have time upon their return to Toussaint it was a disastrous failure.

But not this time.

He moved slow, teasing her body and stretching his patience. Triss sighed and trembled under his skillful hands, beckoning him for more, and he obliged. He came into her slowly and gently, a caress instead of a thrust. They had both waited so long for this that neither wanted it to end, so he kept his movements slow and soft for as long as possible. That moment was more than just a joining of their bodies, it was a joining of their very souls.

As they lay entwined in the aftermath, Eskel laying small kisses across her forehead and Triss snuggling closer, Eskel felt relaxed and at peace. He was himself again and they were both glad for it.


	10. What A Man Doesn't Know

Eskel gripped his sword as he and Lambert stepped out into the cold. He inhaled deeply, letting the frigid air fill his lungs. It felt good. Down near the stable they took up their positions, holding blades at the ready. They swung and blocked easily at first, testing out Eskel's strength. When Eskel parried a fast swing, Lambert ceased giving him the easy road. They worked one another hard for almost an hour, until their fingers were numb with cold.

"Thanks for finding Scorpion and my swords," Eskel said, hefting the fine steel blade.

"Hey, what's a Witcher without his swords? Besides, he found you first. When we got there, he was milling around the bodies…" Lambert stopped and heaved a sigh. "They threw you off a cliff. Not a very tall one but still. You were saved by his other victims that had piled up. Sorceresses." Lambert shook his head then slammed his sword into its scabbard. "That bastard wants to put Keira at the bottom of that cliff!"

"Lambert, she is safe here."

"No! She's not! Don't you get it? She is still a target and Yen knows about her. How long before Emhyr figures out we're here and how long before they come here, huh? What then? She doesn't have a king at her back. Just me." Eskel opened his mouth to protest but Lambert continued. "There is nothing you can say or do, Eskel. Geralt thought he could fix everything and now he's dead. Stop trying to take his place!" Lambert whirled around and stormed off in the direction the small house he occupied with Keira at the edge of the vineyard.

That night as he lay in the arms of his lover, Eskel recounted the exchange with Lambert. Triss seemed unsurprised.

"It is no secret that he has always resented being a witcher. Don't take his words to heart. You and Geralt are similar, but growing up together, why wouldn't you be? But you're different, too. You are far more cautious than he ever was. You have always been calmer and more settled than any of the witchers I've ever known."

"I don't have a history to plague me." He said, his breath tickling her neck.

"That makes sense. No 'what ifs' to question your lot in life."

"The only thing to truly plague me was you."

"Me?" Triss asked, shocked. Eskel pushed up to look down at her.

"What if I never went to Kovir? You wouldn't be here right now, warm and soft…" he leaned in and inhaled deeply, "…and smelling so good." He kissed her neck, just below her ear.

"Well, allow me to show my appreciation that you did."

* * *

The robed wizard stood erect and motionless as Emhyr strode across the cold stone floor. Plaman was master, skilled and knowledgeable, if not overly powerful. He would not allow himself to cower before the Emperor. Afterall, it was his knowledge that led to the Emperor's renewed strength.

"What is the meaning of this?" Emhyr bellowed, flinging the letter at him. Plaman caught it and let his eyes scan its contents, then looked up at Emhyr pacing like a caged beast. He never paced. He never yelled. The Emperor of Nilfgaard didn't need to.

"This is actually very good news…" he began.

"Good news?! It is good news that the witcher is still alive? That, once again, I have to fight a mere _witcher_ for what is rightfully mine?" Plaman remained calm despite the fact that this very angry man could have him executed with a nod.

"I have done further research about the origins of the spell, Your Eminence. The version we used was extrapolated from an old necromancy spell. The original requires the source's blood to complete the transformation. Specifically, blood collected as the source dies."

"And how long have you known this?"

"Not long. I have suspected the spell to be incomplete, but only recently found its origins."

"And what will happen without his blood?" Emhyr was calm again but rage burned in his eyes. Plaman swallowed hard before continuing.

"The ageing process will begin anew, your…illness…will no longer be held at bay. You will die." Plaman held still while he watched the Emperor process. Then he smiled. A small deadly smile.

"It seems that I will have need of my new little find after all." He turned on his heel and left.

"Yes, Your Eminence."

* * *

Winter began to fade in Toussaint long before the north and Triss began preparing an early return her monarch's side. She also convinced Eskel to go as well, via portal. After the previous summer he was disinclined to argue. There were also the disturbing rumors of a Nilfgaard army marching north even through the bitterness of winter. The Embassy in Beauclair had been nearly emptied over the summer as Emhyr gathered his forces home.

Triss and Kari and the twins left early in the morning, then Triss returned for Eskel after a rest. With Keira's help, she was able to stabilize the portal for longer, but the energy cost was great.

While he waited, Eskel prepared extra potions and oils, packed his bags and loaded them on Scorpion. As he tied on the last bag behind the saddle, someone cleared his throat behind him.

"What is it Lambert?" Eskel asked without turning.

"Sounds like war is brewing. Do you…do you want me to go with you?" Lambert asked haltingly. Eskel turned with a smile.

"Lambert, I do believe you are worried about me."

"Yeah, well," he said gruffly. "I don't want to be known as the last Witcher."

"No fame?"

"Not anymore. Fame leads to trouble. You and Geralt have proven that."

"Guess we have." Eskel chuckled. "But, no. Stay here. Someone needs to be here in case Emhyr turns his sights this way. And what about Keira? Does she want to leave? You were right when you said she was still a target."

"I suggested she leave but she's happy here. She can do her research in peace and doesn't want to get mixed up in any more fighting."

"No one does." Eskel led Scorpion out of the stable to where Keira and Triss were making their preparations.

"Look, I'm…sorry…about before. It's hard knowing that Yen…" Lambert trailed off.

"She's not a bad person, Lambert. A jerk, sure. She's just troubled. Something the two of you have in common."

"And you're not?"

"No. I don't know where I came from."

"That doesn't trouble you?"

"No, it doesn't."

"That explains a hell of a lot." Lambert mused as Triss approached.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Yes." Eskel gave Lambert a quick pat on the back and walked towards the waiting portal.

* * *

Once back in Kovir, Triss worked nonstop as the rumors of an army marching their way north became reality. It had been confirmed that the Nilfgaardians were making their way north led by none other than the Emperor himself. Weeks were spent gathering and preparing until the King decided it was time to meet the power grabbing Emperor. He would not allow Nilfgaard to step foot in his lands.

The spring rain was frigid as it ran down his neck, soaking his shirt, but Eskel seemed not to notice. He walked through the rows of soldiers, mercenaries, to the head of the column. The men looked haphazard, with their different armor and weapons but anyone who knew Kovir's history knew otherwise. These men made up the mercenary army that made Kovir a powerful force and now were being called upon to defend against Nilfgaard.

Being fully back to his old self, Eskel refused to be left behind. While riding to war at the side of a king was not ideal, he knew why this war had been started, and it was not at a king's whim. Eskel settled into his saddle and looked around. Patches of snow covered the still frozen ground, the puddles of rainwater freezing to an ice crust. It was going to be slow going but King Tancred was determined to meet the Emperor at the border.

He rode beside Triss, who, as chief advisor, rode beside the king who was also flanked by his royal guard. They pushed hard through the remaining frost and reached the border far faster than Eskel had expected. A small tent city was erected on the border with open rocky plains slanting down to the right and to the left a cliff hidden by forest. The landscape created a bottleneck that would be to Kovir's advantage. That night, Eskel sat perched on a boulder and watched the torches at the bottom of the incline as the enemy camp was erected.

"We should tell the King," said the young soldier beside him as he looked through his spyglass.

"Stay," Eskel replied. "I'll tell him." Eskel rose and walked back to the camp. It was bright in the darkness. Tancred was making a statement. Letting Emhyr know he was lord here. Eskel opened the flap into the Kings audience tent to find him leaning over a map table with Triss and several other advisors.

"Nilfgaard is here." He said. The King looked up and gave a curt nod.

"So it begins." He said darkly then turn back to his map. Eskel felt a gentle touch at his shoulder and was surprised to find that Magnus had made the journey as well.

"Come," the old man said softly then turned to go out of the tent. Eskel followed him into the cold night. Magnus continued walking to the edge of the forest where a single fire had been laid. He shooed the two men who had circled around before turning back to Eskel.

"I know who you are, Eskel and where you come from." He stated, his voice sounding far harder than normal.

"Magnus?"

"Not tonight I'm afraid. There are things in this world you have no comprehension of. Even you, a master of all that is unnatural. I am not of this world."

"Who are you?"

"I have gone by many names. I am a being beyond time, but I found you humans so…. interesting. In this plane I have no body of my own but allow others to absorb my essence, giving them my knowledge and a limited amount of my understanding. Tonight, I wish to share some of that with you. I have taken special, direct interest in a few humans over the years and do not want to see them come to harm.

You may have limits on the power inside you, but I can help you to understand it better thus allowing greater control over what you do have. You are not a source yet have a natural inclination toward magic. The witchers both strengthened it and limited it. A mage would have strengthened it alone. Limits are good. Especially with mankind and there is a man who needs to know that his power has limits." Magnus gestured to the fire. Eskel knelt facing the flames.

"Close your eyes. There is a speck of light in the dark. Focus on it but do not try to reach it. Focus on it, and nothing else." Eskel found the tiny speck in the darkness of his mind and looked at it. Looked and nothing more. The dark seemed to grow closer around him, but he ignored it, watching the light before him as it grew larger. He felt he could reach out and touch it but did not, merely let it surround him until it was too bright to look at…

He opened his eyes to the early dawn of wispy clouds and pink sky. The fire before him had died out over the night and he was alone. Sounds of soldiers tramping around drew his attention and he headed to the mess tent at the back of camp. Between bites of breakfast, the men tightened their armor and sharpened their weapons. Eskel found Magnus sitting alone, looking tired and worn, his white hair looking greyer. Eskel sat across from him. Magnus sighed.

"Now you know my secret. It is not I that tests the magical aptitude of would be mages but _him_. I was but a small village mage, a healer. While I could wield magic, I preferred to study magic and it's affects and use natural remedies to help the village folk. Then one day it all changed. He said someone needed what he knew, and I was the perfect one to deliver his message. That has been…decades ago."

"Who or what is it?" Eskel asked. Magnus shrugged.

"I don't know. His intent is not evil, that I know. I am privy to his thoughts and knowledge and he gives me a magical boost, but outside of that, he takes no action and does not force me to do anything. Last night was the rare exception."

"He said he knew where I came from."

"Yes. And if you really wanted to know, you would have asked. Eskel, you are content as so few are. They always want more yet you remain steady."

"That's not quite true. I have wanted more." Eskel replied recalling Rina.

"Yes, but you have not become bitter or jaded. You never sacrificed your path in life to try and obtain the unobtainable." Eskel silently acknowledged the truth in this. He gave Rina up to live her life, focused on his direction. Only now did he find he had what he wanted in Triss, Rayden and Isabella.

"Just remember your lesson," Magnus interrupted his private thoughts as the men around them began to gather up and move to their commander's call.

"Why now?"

"Can't say. He has his reasons, I'm sure. Now go. I will return to Pont Vanis before the fighting starts. Neither of us have a heart for war." Magnus pushed up and shuffled off behind the tent and Eskel went in search of Triss. She and another mage were preparing for battle from afar. He knew she had been given orders to refrain from magic unless the Nilfgaardians struck first. He had no desire to rain fire down on men following the orders of a madman.

King Tancred stood with his guard as the Nilfgaardians began their ascent up the slope. With a nod, he turned over control of the army to the generals and watched as the mass went to meet their foe. Nilfgaard attempted to strike the first blow with a barrage of fire arrows arching up and set to come down on the mercenary forces but were blown off course and the fire extinguished as the other mage, a middle-aged man, cast a wind spell.

The battle was on. The Koviri forces were enraged and charged the Black Ones, ducking under pikes and dodging swords. Kovir's forces were nimble against the heavily armored Nilfgaardians but were not invincible. Cries of agony rose from both sides as swords and axes found their mark and blood began to run down the rocky slope.

Eskel knelt an closed his eyes in meditation. The clash of swords beginning to fade from his mind leaving him in solitude in the middle of a crowd. He felt he would need as much practice as possible but for what he had no idea. A storm began to move over the mountains, heavy clouds blocking the sun and kicking up a cold wind. Before long rain began to pelt down on the battle. The downpour obscuring the ugliness.

For two days, the battle raged. Medics worked tirelessly to heal and repair or to simply comfort until death took its prey. Triss remained on watch with the King and Eskel remained in silent meditation.

On the third day as the sun marked its zenith, a messenger was sent across the corpse strewn field bearing a white flag and a message. The boy was hauled before His Majesty, King Tancred.

"The White Flame Dancing on the Barrow of His Enemies requests a parley with His Majesty, King of Kovir." The terrified boy pushed out his rehearsed speech, panting. Tancred sat back, amused at the words chosen. He knew Emhyr was trying to intimidate him with his long, elvish title. But he would not fall to such tactics.

"He does, does he? Return to your master and tell him I grant his request. Three hours." Then he waved the boy from his sight as he rose to prepare.

Tancred rode down the gentle slope a half hour late toward the group of waiting Imperials in the center of the battlefield. The King rode center, followed by his personal guard, Triss, and Eskel. The King's red charger came to a stomping snorting halt before the Emperor.

"What do you want, Emhyr?" Tancred bellowed gruffly. Emhyr narrowed his eyes at the familiar address and the tardiness but corrected quickly.

"To put an end to this."

"You are the one who started _this_."

"True but let us avoid any more loss of life." Emhyr moved his gaze from Tancred to Eskel. "I see you keep a witcher in your court."

"He is here of his own free will." Tancred corrected. "I command him to neither come nor go. What do you propose?"

"Just this: that we settle our differences with a battle of champions. If my man loses, I will leave. If he wins…"

"Then we will continue to fight." Tancred finished for him.

"Then we will continue to fight." Emhyr repeated.

"I will need time to find a suitable champion."

"The witcher will be your champion." Emhyr said smoothly. As he once again looked in Eskel's direction, Eskel felt a jolt and he sat up straighter.

"He is not mine to command."

"I'll do it," Eskel's deep voice broke in, his eyes locked with Emhyr.

"I would not ask it of you," The King said.

"I'll do it," he repeated. Emhyr smiled and motioned for someone at the back of his entourage to move forward. Eskel dismounted and the handed Scorpion's reins to Triss.

"Eskel," she began, gripping his hand.

"It's okay. There is something…I don't know." He shook his head. After days of deep meditation, the morning had dawned crisper, sharper somehow. He could feel more, sense more. He had retained his focus on the ride and had felt a hidden intent when the Emperor had looked at him. There was something else Emhyr wanted. The battle was immaterial to him.

"Just be careful. Please," she pleaded. He gave her a quick squeeze then released her hand and turned to face his opponent. Eskel hid his shock on seeing another witcher, his eyes cast downward. Emhyr leaned down and whispered something to him. A mask of determination snapped into place as the stranger lifted his gaze. Eskel was distracted by the King as he turned to leave the field.

"Try and come back alive, Witcher. My most esteemed advisor would be very put out if you did not."

"I'll do my best," Eskel chuckled softly at the jest.

"Be wary." He added seriously before riding off. Within moments, the pair were left alone on the blood-soaked ground. Eskel pulled his sword and took a deep breath, maintaining his inner focus.

Neither man said a word as they sized up one another, unconsciously circling as they submitted to their witcher training.

Without warning the stranger lifted his sword and swung hard at Eskel, but he was ready. A witcher was always ready. He returned with aard, causing his opponent to lose his weapon and was rewarded with a boot to the chest. When he regained his balance, the stranger had rearmed himself. Eskel took the initiative this time and began to drive the other man backward toward the trees and the cliff that lay beyond. The stranger could sense he was being herded like an animal and fought back fiercely but Eskel was stronger and the darkness of the forest drew nearer.

Their swords clashed and the two witchers held their ground, pushing back against one another. Eskel grimaced as he saw the cat amulet around his opponent's neck. Another Cat had sold his soul to the highest bidder.

"Live by the sword, die by the sword," he said and saw a flash of doubt in the stranger's eyes.

"I'd rather not do either." Eskel shoved him back, spun and kicked him square in the chest. As the Cat flew back, Eskel hit him with the full force of his aard, sending him flying into the trees. Eskel stalked back into cover of the forest and found his foe laying on the ground gasping. He knelt beside him.

"What did you mean?" Eskel asked evenly as he reached for the cat amulet.

"I know well what my brothers are," he replied tersely, his voice softening to continue "but I have lived apart from them for some time. I have no desire to fight you. I only fight for the lives of those that are closest to me."

"What is your name?"

"Benedict."

"Eskel." There was a rustle in the bushes and a rabbit hopped out. "We shouldn't tarry long." Eskel grabbed the rabbit and ran his sword over its throat, the hot blood running down the long blade. He handed the carcass over. "Lay low. I'll be back after full dark." Eskel lit the decaying carcass of a deer on fire before turning and walking out of the trees, making a show of wiping the blood from his blade. The pink light from the sunset glinted off the steel as Eskel let his gaze sweep across the field and those that were watching. Emhyr turned his horse and rode away, his entourage following. By morning, they would be gone.

Eskel walked slowly up the hill, thinking. In the moment the two witcher's eyes had met over their blades, Eskel had seen a flash of this man's life. The face of a pretty woman. Two young boys running to greet him. Black armored guards banging on his door. He wasn't here by choice.

Late that night, Eskel returned to the forest as the soldiers mourned their dead and celebrated Emhyr's defeat. He followed the witcher's marks to the cliff side then jumped down onto the ledge. Overlooking the valley below, a small cave dipped back about twenty feet. He walked in and saw Benedict sitting cross-legged beside a small fire. He didn't look up. Benedict knew he had company.

"When we were fighting, I saw things. An empty village, a woman and two young boys." Eskel said, getting straight to the point. "Who are you and where did you come from? Why are you here?" Benedict paused and looked down at his hands, rubbing them together. Eskel sat as Benedict replied.

"So, you want to hear my story…"


	11. A Cat's Tale

Our village was north of the city of Lyria. Didn't have a name but we did business with the traders going north to Aederin and Kedwin. I remember running to the post in the village center and watching the merchants unload their goods and make trades with us. A book dealer came in my sixth spring. He didn't look well. When he left, one by one the villagers became ill. I watched as my older sister and younger brother succumbed to the strange fever along with my friends and neighbors until few were left. Toward the end of summer my parents fell ill as well. At six I did all I could, not thinking that my parents were dying.

All travel through our village had stopped. Word had gotten out about the strange disease that was decimating a tiny farm village to the north. Then one afternoon a stranger arrived. I remember being so excited that I ran back home to tell Papa about him and his two swords and strange yellow eyes. My father told me to fetch the man home. He wished to speak with him. So, I went to the tavern. He was the only person in the place. I just stood and stared at him. I was fascinated yet afraid at the same time.

"What are you staring at, boy?" I couldn't believe he spoke to me. Stupidly, I looked behind me expecting someone else to be there. He laughed at me. "You got a name, boy?"

"Benedict, Sir."

"I'm Zane. And you can drop the Sir. You live in this place all alone?"

"No, sir…uh, Zane. With my Mama and Papa. They're sick."

"You're not."

"No, s…no."

"Why did you come in here?"

"My Papa wants to see you. Says it's important." Zane looked at me for a few moments then finished his drink before getting up.

"Let's go then." We left the tavern and walked through the thick smoke. We burned all our dead to prevent the disease from spreading and there was a constant haze of black that hung overhead. Zane flinched when we entered my house, the stink of waste, sweat and sickness was heavy. I led him to my Papa who looked up from his sickbed. He looked weak but when he spoke his voice was still strong. It is what gave me hope my father would get well.

"A Witcher." Zane said nothing. "I am dying. I have already lost two children to the fever and I cannot go to the beyond without making sure my remaining child is safe."

"Safe is relative. Be careful what you ask."

"Take my son, Benedict. Take him from here."

"He'll become one of us. If he makes it." When my father responded, I could hear the worry in his voice.

"That I know. But what else is there?" Zane said nothing but gave my father a contemplative look before answering him.

"Say your good-byes. I'll wait outside." I gathered what few possessions I had including a stuffed bear my sister had made for me and stood by my father's side. His eyes were red and filled with tears. I remember his firm grip on my arm as he held me one last time. I'll never forget what he said to me all those years ago.

"Benedict…You are leaving here and will become a Witcher. Don't mind what people say about them and don't look back. Just always remember that they can change what you are but never who you are. Only you can do that." It was advice I took to heart. Through all the training, the changes. I gave them what they wanted but I knew who I was. When I was released to The Path I was able to be myself. In the winter at the stronghold, I kept to myself. It went on this way for twenty, thirty years. Then I overheard some of my brothers talking about their contracts. Assassinations and murder. I had seen many madmen in my short time there. There was no moral code. I wanted out, so I saved every piece of gold I laid my hands on.

The summer I finally decided to cut ties I found a wizard in the forests of Lyria. A short tower in the woods surrounded by all manner of beasts but they didn't attack. I remember thinking the location for such a tower odd when the door opened and he invited me in. He offered me food and drink and a place to rest. Needless to say, I was wary.

"Who are you? What is your name?" I asked him.

"Who I am is not important. Or maybe I just can't remember…"

"Which is it?"

"Which is what?" He was absolutely daft. I set the cup down and stood.

"Okay, old man, I'm leaving." As I reached for the door his voice turned dark and sober.

"I know what you seek, Benedict, and I can help you." I turned back to him.

"How do you know my name?"

"What I know would frighten even the strongest of men. I have seen my own end and my time is short. You are making your own destiny. I can help." He handed me a small blue bottle. It had a stopper with a glass rod attached. "Take these."

"What is the book?"

"So you can make more. As a Witcher, you are adept at potion making, yes? Put the drops in your eyes. One drop each." I did as he bid and when I blinked the liquid from my eyes he handed me a mirror. What I saw, I never thought I'd see again. The white and blue of a normal eye.

"How is this possible?"

"It is not permanent. It will only last a day. With this, you can avoid the adverse attention. Blend in. Now, come. Sit. Eat." I stayed and we sat up all night talking. He asked me copious questions about the herbs I had consumed as a child prepping for transformation, the mutagens, everything. I asked him why he wanted to know, and he said it was for one that would come after me. To help him along the way.

When I left, he told me to go south until no Witchers could be found. I took that to mean Nilfgaard. Couldn't argue with that. I moved around for a while living outside of the cities. Couldn't let anyone notice that I wasn't aging. About twenty-five years ago I made it to Nilfgaard City. Set up shop making leather goods and teaching fencing to the nobility. Seventeen years ago, I met Sophia. She was the widow of a soldier. She had no family and nothing to keep herself and her sons with. I remember seeing her outside her home as soldiers emptied it, a babe in her arms and a toddler clutching her legs. I asked what was to become of her and they just shrugged. Said they didn't care.

But I did. I gave her my bed and slept in my shop. We got to know one another, and I came to care for her and the boys. I married her within the year. I raised her boys as my own. And, yes, she knows what I am. I told her when she refused to go to bed with me, fearing she would fall pregnant. Her last birth had been difficult.

Then, six months ago, the Black Ones came banging on my door. They brought me before the almighty Emperor of Nilfgaard himself. He was hail and hardy despite the rumors circulating of his ill health. I had seen him from a distance once and he was stooped and grey but the man that sat before me that day was straight and strong with not a grey hair on his head.

"Benedict Almera. I know what you are." Not _who_ but _what._ Apparently, someone had seen me returning from one of my nighttime hunting excursions after the drops had faded.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to kill someone." I couldn't escape the Cat heritage. I had no choice but to obey. For my family's sake. Sophia began to liquidate everything, and the boys stocked the hunting cabin I purchased decades ago. I told them to go once the army began to move and I would find them when it was over. I need to find them now before the Blacks Ones do."


End file.
